


My Dearest Inej

by A_nonnie_mouse



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Cute, Drama, Experimental Style, F/M, Fluff, Inside jokes, Intrigue, Kaz Likes Making Inej Laugh, Long-Distance Relationship, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, Storytelling Through Letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 27,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25708612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_nonnie_mouse/pseuds/A_nonnie_mouse
Summary: What follows is a collection of letters, found bundled together in twine, nestled among the belongings of the feared privateer, Inej Ghafa, captain of the Wraith.
Relationships: Kaz Brekker & Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa
Comments: 357
Kudos: 359





	1. Toffees

What follows is a collection of letters, found bundled together in twine, nestled among the belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

* * *

_~~Wraith~~ _

_~~Inej~~ _

_My dearest Inej,_

_Are you laughing at my attempts to start this letter? I hope you are. I know how much my discomfort amuses you, and I’m not sure what else I’m good for while you’re off saving the world. If I know you’ve laughed, I will have felt useful._

_You requested letters, so here is the first. When are you coming back? You left yesterday, but now I think time might be standing still. I’ve tried to make a deal with the sun to speed things along, but all I got were alarmed looks from people on the street and a cease and desist order from the Stadwatch._

_No, of course that’s not true. Do you know me at all? I hope you’re laughing._

_Wylan and Jesper would like to enclose a list of items they request be purchased for them in Novyi Zem. I’m throwing it out – it was long and very irritating. You’re welcome._

_I miss you. I think I’ve made that clear, but I’ll say it anyway, in the spirit of no armor and all that. Be careful. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t do anything I would do._

_Sincerely,_

_K. Brekker_

* * *

_My dearest Inej,_

_Good. I’m glad you laughed. My one regret is to not have been able to hear it, but reading of it will have to suffice for now._

_I had not thought to write you in Suli. I feel badly about that. Don’t worry – your Kerch spelling was magnificent, much like many of your other qualities. Should I be writing you in Suli? What’s the protocol here?_

_Many thanks for the Ravkan toffees you sent along. I’m certain Jesper and Wylan enjoyed theirs. As for myself, I enjoyed all of three pieces before it was set upon by starving, feral Dregs. And now I am haunted by the memory of what may have been the most perfect sweet I’ve ever tasted. You should send me the name of the company. Maybe I’ll buy it so I can get fat and happy and retire to the country with the other fat, happy toffeemakers._

_I hope you’re still laughing._

_Sincerely,_

_K. Brekker_

* * *

_(translated from Suli)_

_My rudest Inej,_

_You have cut me to the quick. You would like me less as a fat toffeemaker? My dreams are shattered. I am devastation. Send more toffees._

_Sincerely,_

_K. Brekker_

* * *

_(translated from Kerch)_

_Inej, loveliest of all Inejs,_

_You did not have to send so many toffees. It was a joke. What am I supposed to do with all of this? Did you send a box for every member of the Dregs?_

_They’re going to like you better than me now, you know. This means war._

_Thank you for the Suli lesson. Maybe I should stick to Kerch after all. “I am devastation” – a fitting grammatical error if ever there was one. I may put this on my business card._

_Come back soon. If anything, to help me get rid of some of these toffees. If I have to buy all new suits, it will be entirely your fault._

_Sincerely,_

_K. Brekker_

_a.k.a. – The Devastation_

* * *

_Dearest Inej,_

_No, that’s not how this works. If you want a new code name, you’ll have to start making some grammatical errors, too. I’ve already named you once. If you want a new one, that’s on you._

_Three more days. You won’t get this letter until your next trip to Ravka. But I like knowing you’ll have letters waiting for you when you arrive. I like to think it’s making you smile._

_I am hoping beyond hope to hold you soon. There. How’s that for no armor._

_Respectfully yours,_

_The Devastation_

* * *

_My dearest Inej,_

_I am sorry._

_I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry._

_I don’t know what else to say. I’ve never begged before but I can be taught. This is so much harder than I thought it was going to be._

_I am trying, believe me. If you only knew how I’m trying. I’ve even started letting Jesper jab me in the face. If I can withstand it for ten minutes, he gives me a toffee. Yes, I’m completely serious. Yes, it is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard of, too. This is how desperate I’ve become. (And it’s also preventing us from eating all the toffees at once. You’d think we’d be sick of them by now. Are they laced with jurda parem? Why are they so good?)_

_I am humiliated and ashamed and horrified, and I can’t stop thinking about your face when you left. I know I’ve disappointed you. I can’t believe how much it’s bothering me this time. I’ve certainly disappointed you before._

_It feels insane to ask for patience at this point. I worry I’ve already dried that well. But I’ll risk it anyway. Know that I am trying. Know that I would change this about myself tomorrow if I could. If you have an ounce of patience left, can you spare it for me?_

_Please._

_Two months. Twenty-five days. 18 hours. I’ll use every spare chance I have in that span to prepare for you. It won’t always be this way, I swear it._

_Apologetically yours,_

_K. Brekker_

* * *

_Inej. Treasure of my heart._

_I’m saving your last letter for all time, I think. Thank you. Thank you. Not much leaves me speechless, but you have. I don’t deserve half of the adoration you penned (in flawless Kerch, by the way, I can’t believe you’re still worrying about that), but I hope to one day._

_Two months. Two days. 12 hours._

_I am thinking of you each second until then._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

_P.S. – Jesper hates the sea salt toffees. Keep sending those so he’ll stop stealing mine._


	2. Burn Before Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of letters kept among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

_My dearest Inej,_

_I’m trying to respond to your last letter, but I am stuck on the fact that you began it with the greeting, “My Devastation.” Dear Ghezen, woman. Is this what it feels like to blush? I despise it. This must never happen again. This is also the only greeting I will accept from now on._

_Changing the subject. If I keep thinking about you calling me that, I will get nothing done at all._

_You’ve asked for longer letters, more details about the happenings here. To that I say, why not just stay longer next time? And then you won’t have to settle for reading about it._

_But since there’s still one month, two weeks, and three days left until you dock again, I’ll try to entertain you. I write these at the end of the day, and I’m finding it’s a pleasant way to unravel the mess in my mind a little anyway. So, here are three things which occurred this past week:_

  1. _Rotty accidentally stepped on a cat in an alley and needed twelve stitches afterwards. He’s telling everyone it was a knife fight. It doesn’t matter to me what he tells them. I still get to laugh about it either way._
  2. _I think Jesper and Wylan are having an argument. Jesper’s worn the same clothes for three days. I’m oddly preoccupied with whether or not I should say something. Or maybe buy him a drink. Look what you’ve done to me._
  3. _I dreamt of you this week. And that is all I’m saying about that. Because, unlike some people, I don’t have a sick fascination with making other people blush. I much prefer screaming and cowering and sniveling. It’s far less cruel._



_That is your entertainment for the night. As I am writing this, I’m also examining the blueprints of a certain mercher’s townhome. There’s a strange looking void in the plans that I suspect is a hidden vault. I’m probably not going to sleep until I’ve worked out how to get to it._

_Devastatingly yours,_

_K._ _Brekker_

* * *

_Inej, darling,_

_I’m very sorry Jesper’s letter disturbed you. I’m all right. It was just a little arrest and very minor concussion. No, you don’t need to hurry home. I made bail, made all the appropriate bribes – this will all blow over in a month. Well in time for your arrival._

_In the meantime, I’m enclosing the blueprints. Maybe you can have a look and tell me how you would have broken in. Be aware -- this one’s a light sleeper and has a very good aim._

_Of course I’m resting. Of course._

_(in the margins, in Inej’s handwriting:_ _Lies.)_

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_Inej. Inej Inej Inej._

_You’ll be here tomorrow. I wasn’t going to write again until after. But I took Jesper out for the drink like you said. Drinks. Plural. And it’s interacting strangely with the pain pills the medik offered for the concussion. This has not been my smartest evening._

_Inej. I hope someone stops me before I drop this off at the post tomorrow. I feel very much like I’m about to say things I’m going to regret._

_Listen. Between you and me. Wylan has every right to be angry with Jesper. His spending habits are abysmal, and his cleanliness even worse. He’s a grown man who doesn’t even know how to scrub a dish. They had better not ask us to take sides. Who would you pick? I’d have to pick Jesper. That’s strange. Why do I feel like I have to pick Jesper?_

_This has been illuminating._

_You’ll be here tomorrow. Inej. You’ll be here tomorrow. I don't think I'll be able to sleep. This has been the longest three months of my life. I’ve lost count of how often I’ve dreamt of your laugh, your eyes, your hair, your lips. If I could only taste them. I imagine I might even prefer it toffees._

_Tasting your lips, specifically, I mean. I think that was clear. I actually have no interest in eating your hair. Gods, I'm drunk._

_You’ll be here tomorrow, Inej. And now I’m going to be hungover like an ass. I’m sorry. Hopefully I’ll have the decency to say sorry to your face. You have the most lovely face._

_Perhaps I will put this in the post, just in case tomorrow’s hangover ruins everything. A preemptive apology can’t hurt._

_With every regret and with all of my heart,_

_I remain yours,_

_K. Rietveld_

* * *

_(in an envelope marked: “OPEN FIRST”)_

_My dearest Inej,_

_I must respectfully and urgently request that you only read this letter when you pick up your mail in Os Kervo. In my haste, I accidentally included sensitive information in the letter postmarked the day before this one, and it is a danger to us all. Burn before reading. Seriously._

_Sincerely,_

_K. Brekker_

* * *

_My dearest, brilliant Inej,_

_Thank you for burning the letter as per my last request. No, I’d rather not even allude to its contents. It is a relief to know it’s gone._

_Was it just me or did this last Ketterdam trip of yours go better than the previous? I hope you felt that way. For me, I’m thrilled enough to have held your hand. I can still feel the memory of you resting against my shoulder. You seemed happy. I have wanted that for you for so long._

_We’re going to try your suggestions on the vault this time, later in the week. I find myself less motivated in the initial days after you depart. I imagine that’s not something you feel, and I understand. The water calls for you in ways it doesn’t call to me. We can’t all be seafarers._

_This letter has been a little drearier, I’m realizing. Maybe it’s the rain. Maybe it’s my head. Maybe it’s because I miss you. An excessive supply of Ravkan toffees can only cure so much._

_I’ll make sure the next one's cheerier. This is all for now._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_Inej,_

_Well. Thanks for coming clean about the letter at least. I hope you’re happy with yourself._

_What if there’d actually been something dangerous in it? What then?_

_Who knows why I decided to sign it with that name. I was drunk and concussed and strung out on pain relievers. It wasn’t meant to be read._

_But go on -- enjoy the laugh at my expense._

_Honestly, I expected a little more consideration from you._

_Kaz_

* * *

_(no envelope, unsent)_

_My most cherished Devastation,_

_I am not laughing. I didn’t laugh at the letter at all. It was never my intent to humiliate you. You have to know that I loved every word of it. It was like opening a plain box and finding a gem. You are rarely so free with your words and your feelings. If I could kiss the medik who intoxicated you, I would._

_I’m keeping the letter. I’m savoring every word. Even the part about not eating my hair, which, while an unnecessary clarification, I do appreciate the effort to communicate. I’m dreaming of kissing and holding you, too. You have nothing to be ashamed of._

_Although, let’s not tell Wylan what you wrote. Your secret is safe with me. Your secrets are always safe with me._

_You are my sweetest devastation, Kaz Rietveld. Please don’t be angry._

_Yours,_

_Inej_

_P.S. – If you were hungover that day like you feared, you hid it alarmingly well. Or perhaps your usual grumpy demeanor lends itself well to masking hangovers. That’s not to say you were an ass. ~~You were perfect. You were charming.~~ I’m really bungling this. You were Kaz, and you were exactly as I needed you. Does that make sense? No, it doesn’t. I think I need to throw this out and try again._

_(scribbled in the margins, roughly translated from Suli)_

_“BURN BEFORE READING”? DO YOU TRUST ME AT ALL?!_

_INEJ, YOU MASSIVE LOON_

* * *

_Inej, bravest and most daring of all Inejs,_

_I can’t stay angry with you. Disregard the last letter. Do what you want with the ridiculous one. Let’s blame all of this on the damn mercher who hit me in the head. None of this would have happened if he could have just been decent and let me rob him._

_When are you coming home again?_

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_My dearest Devastation,_

_We are docking in Ketterdam next week. I’d rather not completely disregard the letter in question. Let’s speak of it in person then. Do you think you can do that?_

_And before you say no, I’m bringing toffees to sweeten the deal. So, consider carefully._

_Affectionately yours,_

_Inej_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I really love hearing from you! And if you have some of your own headcanons that you'd like to see play out in letters, feel free to drop a request. I'll see what I can do.


	3. The Wasp's Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of letters found among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

_My dearest Inej,_

_Good morning. It’s morning here as I write this, anyway. I’m sitting in Wylan and Jesper’s parlor, and I’ve haven’t slept a bit. Strap in as I tell you why. You’ve asked for longer letters, and now that day has come._

_There’s been a fire at The Crow Club. Don’t worry, everyone’s fine. Mostly. More on that later. Minor structural damage, mostly to the roof. A fair amount of smoke damage. It can all be fixed. I wish I could say it was intentional and that someone was going to pay. Someone might still pay; I haven’t made up my mind. I thought I’d write you until I could think clearly again._

_It began last week when Anika noticed an unusually large nest building up in the eaves in the Slat. Wasps or bees – we couldn’t tell at first. Neither of us was particularly excited about the idea of sticking our faces in to find out. Whatever particular brand of invasive, stinging insect resided there, the general consensus was the nest had to go._

_Who was going to do the dirty deed, you ask? Who among us was brave enough to risk the multiple stings and the resulting swelling for the common good of all? The answer is none of us. I know, you would have been so proud. We determined the only way to select the person to sacrifice was to play a few rounds of cards for it. Loser would smoke out the wasps or bees or whatever demons were buzzing in the Slat._

_In hindsight, I realize now this method would essentially determine the stupidest person in the Dregs, and that we would then be putting that person in charge of fire and smoke and stinging insects, and this was perhaps was not my brightest idea. But this was no Ice Court – I didn’t think I needed to craft an airtight plan. All that mattered to me was avoiding being the one to be mercilessly stung._

_I know, I know. Every last one of us has been shot or stabbed or cut or punched at some point, sometimes all in the same night. Do I need to explain to you how much worse wasp stings are? And you can’t get revenge on a wasp. They’re just mindless, stabbing menaces filled with nothing but hate and malice for mankind. We’re agreed on this, right? I’m almost certain we are. You would have tried to avoid it, too._

_In the end, it was Seeger who lost. Probably saw that coming. He stalled on his duty for days, and the nest kept getting bigger. We learned they were, in fact, wasps – enormous ones with bodies like black armor, and they’d begun infiltrating the club and stinging our patrons. It was getting out of hand. Last night, Roeder handed him a torch and a match and barred him from leaving the Slat until he accomplished the task. (So, wait, maybe this is Roeder’s fault? He’s sleeping on the sofa across from me right now. It would be very easy to smother him. He’s lucky I’m writing you instead. For now.)_

_I spent my first several years of life on a farm where unwelcome insects invaded regularly, so let me tell you how this was supposed to go: you’re supposed to create enough smoke so that the wasps become drowsy and uninterested in you, and then you can remove the nest without being swarmed. But Seeger’s never set foot outside Ketterdam. You can guess where this is going._

_Rather than wait and let the smoke build, Seeger took the damn torch and set the nest on fire._

_So then Roeder lets him out because he's screaming like someone's pulling out his innards. The next thing you know, the roof’s on fire and Seeger is covered in angry wasps, running for the nearest canal in the hope that leaping into the water will stop the stinging. He’s trailing wasps all through a completely full club. Patrons are being stung. The entire room is filling up with smoke, and everyone is choking and swelling and screaming. Sheer pandemonium._

_Anika, Pim, Rotty, Roeder, and I were at least able to keep the flames from spreading before the fire brigade showed up – which, as you might expect, took ages. They were probably thrilled to hear East Stave was burning._

_Oh, and there were still wasps. I’m no expert, but they seem to be impervious to fire._

_You know what’s not impervious to fire? Ravkan toffees._

_Anyway, Wylan’s letting us squat with him and Jesper while we figure this thing out. We’ve all been stung; we’ve all inhaled smoke. We’re all planning a million ways to skin Seeger alive when he leaves the hospital._

_Send mail to the Van Eck mansion for at least the foreseeable future. I think I might try to sleep now. It’s all sounding a little more funny and a little less apocalyptic now that I’ve written you about it. Maybe I’ll let Seeger live._

_I am definitely going to let him sweat about it for a while, though._

_Sooty and swollen,_

_Yours,_

_K. Brekker_

* * *

_Sweetest Inej,_

_Don’t you dare change your plans. You do not have to come back for this. I meant only to regale you with the drama and the intrigue, not call in the cavalry. The stings are healing, and we all sound a little smoky when we talk, but no one’s worse for the wear. (Jesper’s enjoying pointing out that I don’t sound a whole lot different, apparently. I guess my voice normally sounds like someone who’s inhaled smoke and wasps. I’ll let you confirm.) Wylan and Jesper are impeccable hosts. I’ve met with a foreman and crew, and repairs are underway. There’s plenty of funds to pay for it. We’ll be reopening again in a month, give or take. There’s really nothing for you to come back for._

_Unless you’d personally like to do something about Seeger. I would watch that. I would pay good kruge to watch that._

_Yours,_

_K. Brekker_

* * *

_(in an unaddressed envelope, marked with Inej’s handwriting: DO NOT Let Jesper or Wylan Read)_

_My most treasured, most stubborn Inej,_

_I’m just going to give this to you before you leave because I don’t think I’ll be able to say this to your face._

_Thank you for ignoring me. Thank you for coming back anyway. It has meant the world to me to have you at my side this past week. I don’t think I realized how cavalier I was being about all of this until you showed up. While many of the events of this situation have been amusing, you were right: the after-effects have been all-consuming and exhausting. But having you here, I feel like I’m finally awakening from this on-going nightmare. You can make me forget about even the swelling of wasp stings or the piles of ruined suits. You have this uncanny ability to make me hope for things, no matter how dire the circumstance. You make even the drudgery of replacing damaged furniture and clothing not just tolerable – maybe even a little bit enjoyable. If this entire experience has taught me anything, it’s that the only irreplaceable thing in my life is you, Inej._

_I am sorry if I’ve seemed short with you the times you have asked about my life on the farm. I hadn’t realized I’d never told you until that letter. I know it’s a strange image to think of me ever being rural and thus an interesting topic of discussion for you. But for me, it’s not so much strange as it is depressing. And there’s enough of that happening right now. Someday, I’ll tell you more. You’ve earned that much. No, that’s not quite true. You’ve earned so much more, honestly – I’m just miserly and miserable, and for some reason, you tolerate that. You are far better than anything I deserve._

_I think you already know this, but I would like to remind you anyway. No matter where you are in this world, if you find yourself in similar trouble, I hope you will call on me. I would come for you. I can’t guarantee my company will ever be as lovely as yours, but I will always come for you._

_With deep gratitude from the bottom of my smoke-filled heart,_

_Kaz_

_(Inej’s handwriting in the margins, translated from Suli)_

_Note to self :_

_This is Kaz Rietveld._

_You like Kaz Brekker._

_You are in love with Kaz Rietveld._

_Does he even exist outside of letters? Can he?_

_Shit._


	4. The Hot Air Balloon Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of letters found among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

_My dearest Inej,_

_These new treats you’ve sent us from Shu Han are interesting. Wylan and I have been trying to figure out how to open them. Jesper thought he had it figured out (I tried to warn him) and ended up eating wax. Don’t tell me. I’m going to work this out._

_Speaking of the wax-eater, Jesper’s birthday is fast approaching, and, given the amount of painfully obvious hints that Wylan has been dropping, I can tell I’m expected to purchase gift. I could use your advice. This is the one thing about being disgustingly rich that I had not taken into account before the Van Eck affair: buying gifts for rich people is impossible. And why should I even? Jesper can buy himself whatever he wants whenever he wants it. That was literally the entire point of the Ice Court and the Van Eck affair. Why am I buying him a birthday gift again? I should be exempt._

_This is truly amazing. I am still penning this letter, and I can already tell you’re glaring at me as you read this. Remarkable. How are you doing that? I have to know. I would also like to be able to project my rage and disgust through time and space._

_I’ve been hesitant to ask when you’ll be returning to Ketterdam next. I imagine there’s some sort of deficit now, after you spent the extra travel helping after the fire. But I’m bracing myself now. Go on, I can take it. What’s it to be? Five months? Six months? As long as the answer isn’t never, I’ll be at Fifth Harbor whenever you want me._

_Yours,_

_K. Brekker_

_P.S. – You’re sure you didn’t accidentally send us just a fancy box of wax, right?_

_P.P.S. – Never mind. Got it. Toffees are better._

* * *

_My surprising, delightful Inej,_

_You probably couldn’t tell, since I don’t possess your otherworldly command of projecting human emotion through dimensions of time and space, but I was actually smiling when I read your letter. I had no idea you were planning on stopping back for Jesper’s birthday. This is great news. That’s, what, three weeks from now? You spoil us._

_I have to be honest, though, I really hate your idea. An experience as a birthday gift? This sounds like work. This sounds like the exact opposite of why we all nearly died trying to get rich. Inej, love. Please. Don’t do this to me._

_Ugh, you’re doing it again. The inter-dimensional glaring. If this is what having a conscience feels like, I’d like to have it surgically removed as soon as possible. So, make a note: that’s the experience I want for my birthday._

_Very well. An experience for Jesper. I’ll talk to Wylan for some ideas._

_I just had this sinking feeling in my gut – I don’t actually know when your birthday is. And that is something I should probably know. Don’t kill me. Just let me know in enough time to craft a proper experience. Since apparently this is what we do now._

_Could I just let Jesper shoot me? That would be experience he’d like. And then I don’t have to do anything._

_Despite my trepidation, I remain,_

_Faithfully yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_Inej, I have to make this quick. Jesper’s getting nosy. These are the ideas Wylan and I have. Pick one so we don’t have to._

  * _Tickets to the Komedie Brute_
  * _Canal cruise with kvas tasting_
  * _Hot air balloon ride_
  * _Private dining experience in The Lid_
  * _Hiring a magician for an exclusive show_
  * _Shooting Kaz in a non-vital extremity so he can go home_



_The last one can be done in combination with any of the aforementioned. Just circle one (or two) and send back posthaste._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

_(Hot air balloon ride has been circled and the final suggestion aggressively crossed out multiple times.)_

_(The letter has been resent with a final note in Kaz’s handwriting)_

_This is literally my least favorite option, Inej._

* * *

_(in an unaddressed envelope marked only “Inej – Please use discretion when reading”)_

_Inej,_

_I’m just going to hand you this letter tomorrow when you arrive, because I know I can’t say this, especially since I’m not sure we’ll have a chance to be alone before this evening. Gods, Inej, I am spiraling out about this. Just read this and help me think straight._

_It’s this hot air balloon ride. I am genuinely not trying to be an ass right now. Let me just paint a picture for you:_

_What Wylan has described to me after he made the reservation is quite the close-knit, possibly romantic scenario. There’s wine and chocolate-dipped fruit and starlight, and I can tell he’s thrilled about all of it. Jesper will be, too. You picked a great option for him. But this ride is for all four of us. They’re going to be as they are – comfortable, close, enjoying each other as they do. And you and I. Well. We’re you and I. I can’t do this yet. I want to but I can’t, especially not in a tiny basket in the sky. Inej, I am freaking out. I do not want to vomit in a wicker basket hundreds of feet over unsuspecting tourists. Or worse, faint and fall out of said tiny basket to my inevitable death. Although, in the latter scenario, at least I won't have to concern myself with how the rest of the Dregs will react to my very public disgrace. While all of this would definitely make for an experience, I don’t think it’s what Wylan has in mind. This is exactly why I don’t do celebrations._

_You’re going to be disappointed. I can already picture your face. I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. I am sorry I keep saying sorry when what you want to know is that this will have no echo. I can’t promise that yet. I suppose the word I’m looking for is regret. I am full of regret. I am so full of regret and disgust with myself that I might explode. Remember this is not you. This is not a reflection of how much I want you. How do I do this? How do I not turn this birthday into an absolute shitshow?_

_He really can’t just shoot me in the leg? It’s just a leg. It’s not like it was a fully-functioning leg to start with._

_Help._

_(addition in Inej’s handwriting)_

_Just wear your gloves. Do whatever you need to do. If you’d rather, I’ll stand on the complete opposite end of the basket and make faces at you all night. I’m honestly happy you’ve told me all this first, even if you did have to write it. This is far more preferable than you not saying anything at all and making yourself uncomfortable and angry all night. Now we can make a plan, and no one has to faint. This does not have to be a shitshow._

_Here is the plan: no one touches your skin tonight. I’ll cut anyone who even tries. Take all the personal space you require._

_But no one’s going to shoot you, no matter how much you beg for it. Might as well let that one go._

_Does this help?_

_(addition in Kaz’s handwriting)_

_You are an actual Saint, did you know that?_

_Don’t stand on the opposite end of the basket, though, if you don’t mind. If you don’t find the gloves particularly offensive, I’d like to keep you nearby and at least attempt to be a little normal._

_Thank you for this, Inej. I owe you one._

* * *

_To the one, the only, the indispensible Inej –_

_I don’t even know where to begin thanking you for a truly spectacular birthday. I expected nothing at all, and I have been completely blown away. Wylan said the hot air balloon ride was your idea – or rather, one of his ideas but you gave your stamp of approval. Easily the best moment of the night. You know me well. And your magic trick? We need to know the secret. You know what I’m talking about. How the hell did you convince Kaz to come along? He didn’t even seem particularly miserable, from what I could tell. I’ll confess to being a little preoccupied. Wylan really outdid himself. Hopefully, you both really did enjoy yourselves and you weren’t just lying for my sake._

_Thank you for coming. Thank you for caring. Thank you for planning. Just a thousand thank yous for being Inej and being around with all of your Inej-ness for my birthday. It was the cherry on top of a perfect night._

_I’m going to get you back. Prepare yourself for the best birthday of your life._

_All my love,_

_Jesper_

_P.S. – And thank you for the toffees. I’m not sure how you knew the exact moment we were all finally starting to crave them again. I don’t know whether to be impressed or afraid of how well you predict us. But I’m not going to think about it because there are toffees here again and all is well with the world._

* * *

_Inej._

_If I live to be a hundred, I won’t forget this night. I want to always remember the way you look in starlight. I’m going to bed remembering the look of your elated smile in the glow of the balloon. The way that laugh of yours echoed over the city. Forget inter-dimensional glaring. I want to know how you are able to take these seemingly mundane moments and turn them into cherished, joyous occasions. That’s not a trick. That’s actual magic that you do. I don’t know if I’ll ever be bored of it._

_And in case you’re worried, I’m not writing intoxicated this time. I didn’t even taste the wine. If I’m drunk on anything, it’s remembering how it felt to hold you close while we floated over Ketterdam. The way you smiled up at me when I did. The way you held me back, and I felt miles away from the water in a way I’ve never felt before._

_An experience as a gift. I get it now. No amount of kruge could have bought that moment. You are the devastation, Inej. You devastate my expectations in the best possible way._

_Now focus on your task at hand. However long this next journey of yours takes, know that I am contented as I wait. I feel now as if I’m richer than I’ve ever been._

_With all of my heart and without a shred of armor,_

_I’m yours,_

_Kaz_

_(found written on the back, translated from Suli)_

_Sankta Elizabeta._

_Help me with this man and his dueling personalities._

_When asked what he thought of the balloon ride that night, his single response in its entirety, and I quote:_

_“It was nice.”_

_What do I do with this?_


	5. Flutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of letters found among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

_My dearest Inej,_

_I have got to move back into The Slat. If I have to listen to Wylan’s flute for one more day, I’m putting my head through a wall. He’s trying to learn some especially challenging arpeggios this week, and I don’t know what the hell it’s supposed to sound like, but from here it’s like someone’s violently strangling a canary. I take back every criticism I’ve ever had about Jesper. He should be drinking more. I couldn’t live with this._

_Inej – I hope you know I will support every endeavor you should want to undertake. But I will draw the line at the flute._

_I have nothing else to write about, because there is nothing more pressing than this. I’m going to end here so I can take this letter to the post via whatever route takes the longest. Maybe by way of Fjerda._

_Yours,_

_K. Brekker_

_P.S. – It got worse. Now he’s whistling._

* * *

_My hilarious Inej,_

_I sincerely hope you’re lying about buying a flute in Shriftport. I swear on every one of your Saints, if you come home fluting, I will uncover every annoyance that’s ever bothered you and devote an entire day to making you experience each one of them in succession._

_You think I’m joking? Try me, Ghafa. Go on – buy a flute. See what happens._

_I eagerly await your response._

_Kaz_

* * *

_Oh, my most diabolical Inej,_

_You did not just mail me a flute. Have you lost your mind? This is a waste of perfectly good kruge._

_No, I absolutely will not play a duet with you._

_You’re a madwoman. You’ve clearly been at sea too long. Come home at once._

_The Slat should be ready to move back in by the time you’re back. If you promise to leave your flute on The Wraith, there’s a place for you to stay when you visit. Not insinuating anything. Purely out of convenience. But we do expect you to abide by the no flute policy while you’re here. It’s quite serious._

_And so I’m afraid, in keeping with the strict no flute policy, I’m going to have to throw this flute out. My apologies. It’s beyond my control._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_Inej, most sly and cunning of all Inejs,_

_Yes, the no flute policy does include whistling. I’m sorry – I don’t make the rules. I just enforce._

_I did mean in my room at The Slat. That’s the available space. I should have been clearer. I would probably sleep in a chair or on the floor or just not sleep at all. I’ve always felt sleep is a more negotiable habit, anyway. I apologize for not having a more specific arrangement in mind first. It’s harder to think clearly when you’re being assaulted by flutes._

_I just like having you around._

_Are you saying you will stay at The Slat?_

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_My dearest Inej,_

_I knew there was a risk that it might be too uncomfortable for you. It’s not ridiculous at all. The offer stands whenever you’d like to take advantage of it. I swear I don’t take it personally. After everything I’ve asked of you, it would be insane of me to take it personally._

_Unless you’re choosing the flute over me, in which case I think that means I’m supposed to duel the flute. And he has another thing coming if he thinks I’m going quietly. They don’t call me The Devastation for nothing._

_It won’t always be this way. I’m going to keep saying it until it’s true. So, don’t feel badly for having to wear your metaphorical gloves every once and awhile._

_Two months. Two weeks. Five days. Until I absolutely destroy that flute._

_Respectfully yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_Inej, love,_

_Change your mind as many times as you like. Or don’t decide until you’re docked. Wherever you want to lay your head at night while you are in Ketterdam is entirely up to you. If it is your heart’s desire to sleep on the roof, then I’ll hand you up a pillow and a blanket. I have no expectations._

_Speaking of which, I move back into The Slat tomorrow, so update addresses accordingly. It took a little longer than expected. I had the crew update some of the plumbing, and then that uncovered a mold problem that had to be dealt with. It’s been one thing after another with that place since Seeger’s fire. (That’s what we’re officially calling it now. It was Seeger’s fire. Henceforth, Seeger shall always be known as the one who is never to be trusted with fire, and we never let him forget it.)_

_All that to say, wherever you decide to sleep, I’m just looking forward to seeing you again in one month, two weeks, and three days. It’s been a tiresome few months._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_My dearest Inej,_

_I have read and considered your proposal and its terms. You would like to stay at The Slat on the condition that I read aloud some of my letters to you. I’m not sure I quite understand your angle, but, for you, I’m willing to take the risk. You have yourself a deal._

_Sincerely yours,_

_K. Brekker_


	6. Dear Nina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It’s dangerous, though, isn’t it? Only getting the good side of things. It messes with your perception of reality."

_Hello, lovely,_

_Some news and a request. I am going away on an assignment for the next several months, and this one’s rather sensitive. It means I’ll be out of reach for a time. Don’t worry your wonderful Inej brain about it, though. You know very well I’ll be just fine._

_Here’s how I’m thinking we make due in the meantime. I’m writing down all my adventures and silly thoughts to send you as soon as it’s safe, and then we’ll be able to catch up in no time at all when all is right with the world again. You should do the same. Once I’m able, I’ll send a giant wad of letters along with where I can be reached to the Van Eck mansion for Wylan to hold on to for you until your next trip to Ketterdam. There. Not so bad, right?_

_I miss you more than cake. And that’s not an exaggeration. Be safe, lovely. And give them all hell._

_All my love,_

_Nina_

* * *

_(enclosed in an overstuffed envelope marked “Nina”)_

_(translated from Kerch)_

_Dear Nina,_

_Your last letter has made me grouchy. I don’t know if there would have ever been a good time for you to fall off the map, but I think there could have at least been a better time than this. I’ll take your suggestion, though, and settle for trying to imagine your face when I tell you these things. When you read this, let’s imagine that we’re at that cafe in West Stave. The one with the little white tables outside. You’ve ordered enough waffles to feed five men, and I’m all hopped up on hot chocolate, and we can’t stop snickering. It’ll happen again someday, right?_

_I’m going to use this letter to take a break in entertaining you with stories of battle at sea and the many delightful ways in which bad men beg. I’m docked in Ketterdam today with my head dangerously full of some truly mortifying events. I don’t know what to do, Nina. Keep eating your imaginary waffles – I’m going to offload a great many details and bring you up to speed._

_I’ve told you that Kaz and I write letters. That they’re sort of a romantic nature. I know you think I’m crazy. I’m well aware that I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t know -- there’s just something about him I can’t give up yet. And I love these letters. They’ve become the first thing I pick up at every new port. They’re these little slices of Ketterdam – all of the good stuff, that is, and none of the bloodshed._

_It’s dangerous, though, isn’t it? Only getting the good side of things. It messes with your perception of reality._

_It should surprise no one that Kaz Brekker is good with pen and paper, considering how we’ve seen him con. Sometimes I worry that’s what letter-writing really is to him. Another way to con. He says things in letters that you could not even imagine, Nina. He can be affectionate. He can be really funny, maybe even playful. He can also write the most sincere, heartfelt sentences. You read them, and you really forget he’s, well, Brekker. It’s almost like, when he writes me, he’s not. Like some other side comes out when he picks up a pen, and it’s the side I’ve always hoped was really there all along._

_I’m such a goner for this other side, Nina. It’s become a problem. Try not to spit out those imaginary waffles._

_It’s a problem because, in person, when I’m in Ketterdam, he’s still Kaz Brekker, the persona, the enigma. It started messing with my head, because there is such a stark contrast between Kaz Brekker the enigma and the Kaz who writes me these insanely charming letters. That’s not to say Kaz Brekker isn’t trying to be less enigmatic, but it’s little things. He can take off his gloves more now without having violent reactions to a brush of skin. He’s managed to hold my hand for a few, brief moments. I’ve tried to cozy up to him, but I don’t know. It’s impossible to know what he thinks of it, if he likes it, if he hates it, if he resents it – until a letter shows up. And then he’s writing, “I miss you” and “I’m dreaming of tasting your lips.” (I’m imagining you making that silly fanning yourself gesture, and I really hope that’s true. Saints, I miss you.)_

_I’m rambling so much. I wish you were just here instead._

_He wrote me this letter after Jesper’s birthday, Nina. Ughhh, why are you so far away? It was a really good letter. A really, really good letter. We had a moment during this hot air balloon ride (yet another reason you need to come back to visit Ketterdam – we do birthday experiences now). Jesper and Wylan were on one side of the balloon’s basket, wrapped up in each other and all the sights with their backs to us. And, out of nowhere, he pulled me close, tucked me right up against his side, close enough that I couldn’t help but hold him back. At first, I could actually feel his heart racing and thought maybe he’d pull away. But he settled after a minute, and we rode in the balloon for a good while like that, stars overhead, city lights below. That was all, and it was more than enough for me. I still think about it all the time. He told me later that he thought it was a nice night, and so I thought it best to leave it at that. We had a nice night. Nice, like when your dinner isn’t ruined or someone opens a door for you._

_But this letter that awaited me in Os Kervo. You know Suli, right? So, if I use the phrase (nearest translation: “I shit a brick”), you’ll understand just how shocked I was. He wrote how he never wanted to forget that night and the way I looked and the way he felt. It was perfectly un-Brekker-like. It might have made you cry._

_The contrast has never seemed so stark._

_And so it came down to this: I needed to know that Kaz Brekker in Ketterdam was capable of actually being this person who keeps showing up in envelopes and using his name._

_Which brings me to my most recent trip to Ketterdam. This was the trip after the hot air balloon ride. Before I arrived, he asked if I wanted to stay in the Slat this trip – with him. Don’t choke on your waffles, please. Nothing was going to happen – he can barely hold my hand for more than a few minutes, and at least one of the times it’s happened, I had to bribe him with Ravkan toffees first._

_I had one condition for this arrangement. I wanted to bring letters for him to read aloud. Perhaps most incredibly, he agreed._

_Right. This is where it gets ugly._

_I’d spent the day at The Slat. Usually my first day on land, I find I’m unusually exhausted, and everything in The Slat is fresh and new since Seeger’s fire – I’d even venture to say comfortable. I slept most of the day, a luxury I know you’d appreciate. I was up around dinnertime, and he’d brought in dinner. (It was those meatballs and mash pots we used to love so much. I hope I’ll be able to eat them again after this without wanting to hurl.)_

_Dinner seemed like a good time to try out the letter reading. We’d spread out the food on his desk and passed a bottle of kvas back and forth to lighten the mood before he rolled up his sleeves and I gave him the first one. I had tried to pick a variety of his letters to bring along, the ridiculous ones right up to the one I can’t get over – the one after the hot air balloon ride._

_Before you get too excited, we didn’t get to the hot air balloon ride letter._

_It was going so well in the beginning. My cheeks were hurting from smiling so hard, listening to so many charming words come from that voice. He seemed to be enjoying it even – feet up on the desk, a sip of kvas here, read an old joke there, and he’d try not to smirk to himself when it made me laugh. He even let one of his own laughs slip once or twice. It was just what I wanted. I felt like I was finally putting together a whole picture out of two halves._

_But then we came to this letter he’d given to me on the docks of Fifth Harbor, thanking me just before I left after Seeger’s fire. I was getting ready to hand it over to him, and my heart dropped right into my feet. Nina. I’d forgotten I’d written something really, really, REALLY_ _embarrassing in the margins. Just. Sankta Alina. I don’t know if I can repeat it._

_I tried to skip over that one, but he was having none of it. Everything had been playful and a little flirtatious up until that moment, and he swiped it from my hands. Sankta Elizabeta, my face is burning up while I’m writing this. Tell me this is salvageable. Oh, wait, you’re in backwoods Fjerda or something. Ugh, why, Nina, why?_

_Everything got really quiet – he’d seen it right away. I could tell he was surprised, but that was it. I have no idea what else was happening in that brain of his._

_What it was was this. I’d made a note of how different he was on paper and labeled that Kaz by his original name. I’d written that I like Kaz Brekker, but after these letters, I was in love with Kaz Rietveld._

_NINA. (Untranslatable Suli vulgarities)_

_I snatched the letter back – he wasn’t even making eye contact with me. He hadn’t even budged. It was too horrible. The silence felt never-ending. So, I left. That was yesterday. Now I’m staying on the Wraith. Maybe forever._

_I have to say something, and I wish you were here to help me figure out what to say. Somewhere in the back of my mind, there are fragments of lessons and sayings my father would have about this, if I could only cobble them in to something coherent. I’m trying and trying to imagine how he must be feeling._

_He couldn’t have been that surprised about my feelings, could he? Not after all this time, not everything we’ve written. It’s not as if I’ve been terribly coy. I’m forcing myself to believe he would not be horrified to know how I feel. No, there’s something else._

_How awful it must feel to think someone you trusted finds only a part of you lovable._

_I have some soul-searching to do, Nina._

_Come back._

_Inej_

* * *

_(hand-delivered, unaddressed envelope)_

_Dear Inej,_

_I’ve spent the whole night thinking, and I have some things to say. I won’t read this one out loud, so if you have a hard time believing it’s me, I guess you’ll just need to get creative._

_I know you’re embarrassed. You might remember I have intimate knowledge of what it’s like to be in your position. At first, I wanted nothing more than to ease your mind and put everything back the way it was. There was a large part of me that was awestruck that you’d find even a small, half-dead remnant of myself worthy of loving. I was ready to crawl back to you and do anything to erase this moment from time._

_But then I realized that’s not a fair deal to Kaz Brekker._

_And before you start making faces, I’m not becoming one of those politicians that likes to bloviate in the third person. Just for the sake of clarity in this letter alone, I’ll use the labels that you used._

_Inej, Kaz Brekker saved my life. Yours, too. And a lot of other people’s. Kaz Brekker could find me food and dry clothes and shelter when there was no one else. Kaz Brekker has fixed and built and risked and fought and salvaged. And yes, there are a good many things he’s terrible at, like not being an unmitigated asshole. He is not friendly or particularly kind, and he’s rarely truthful. There are many things he should never have done. He’s done unthinkable things he’s not even sorry for. Trust me, Inej. When it comes to hating Kaz Brekker, I have a front row seat._

_But the only reason there’s a Kaz Rietveld here for you to love at all is because Kaz Brekker brought him this far._

_At first, my instinct was to write a letter detailing all the many ways I can become more like the man you love. And that’s not to say there isn’t some wisdom in trying to coax him out a bit more – you tend to have good taste in most things. There’s probably some value in striking a balance._

_But Kaz Brekker is part of the deal. You can’t have one without the other. There is a lot about him – about me -- that I would not and will not change. So, I need to know that you see the same value in him. In all of me. Because, if you can’t, I’m not sure it will matter how much I’m in love with you, too._

_And to think we might have avoided this whole mess if I just would have let you bring a flute. To that I say, mati en sheva yelu. I am in love with you even if you play a damn flute._

_Are you smiling at least a little bit? I hope so._

_Sincerely,_

_K. Rietveld_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof, I got nervous dropping this chapter. :) But characters are gonna do what characters are gonna do. And if you're familiar at all with my other works, you'll know I can't not do FEELS. 
> 
> WHAT WILL INEJ SAY? WILL HIJINKS RESUME? DOES THIS WRITER EVEN KNOW WHAT SHE'S DOING? ;)


	7. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter kept among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one goes out to all my fellow YA junkies who also can't help stanning the bad, bad men. Yes, we know we have a problem. We just don't care.

_Dear Inej,_

_I don’t like this silence. Which is strange for me, since silence is usually one of my favorite things. But I don’t like not hearing from you. I don’t like the way you left._

_I want to call truce. I can’t just sit in this unnerving interlude while you assess whether or not what you know about me is enough for you to love. So, truce. Don’t decide anything._

_I will give you more. I will write more, like you wanted. If you’re afraid of the contrast between life and letters, I will give you more life in what I write._

_So, in case you have forgotten, let me remind you of what life with me is like. Here is what I have done this week._

_Word got around that there was a new lender in the Barrel, and I hated the look of him from the start. He had the greased up comb over and the fine leather shoes of a man who was thinking too highly of himself. You may remember my first impressions are rarely wrong. He was offering cash loans to desperate Barrel rats trying to make it until their next wages. His contracts were easy to obtain; his terms seemed generous. But his interest rates, so cleverly hidden, were 200%. He’d been in the Barrel barely a month and already had dozens of clients in desperate straits indefinitely indebted to him, practically for life. So, I paid him a visit and broke every one of his fingers. He’ll recover, I think, but it’s going to be awhile before he can sign another promissory note. I suspect he’ll be out of work for some time. Maybe in that time he finds himself in need of a loan, too. I left him my card._

_That was a Tuesday._

_On Wednesday, I had some unfinished business to settle with a certain Black Tip who was running a side scam under the table. I’m not sure why his boss wasn’t trying to rein him in. Maybe he really didn’t care. He was handsome devil, this Black Tip, who enjoyed posing as a wealthy landlord and offering unfortunate single mothers cheap rent on a lovely flat in West Stave. Only problem was there was no flat in West Stave. He was collecting security deposits and disappearing, leaving mothers and their children with nowhere to go but dirty flop houses. But he’s not so handsome anymore now. He’ll have a hard time getting anyone to trust him with the word “Liar” carved into his forehead. I thought it best to leave just a warning. I don’t have the time to devote to sparking a new feud with the Black Tips at present. Besides, if their boss keeps letting them run scams unchecked, they’ll implode all on their own without much involvement from me at all._

_Thursday was a little more dull. I had stacks of expense reports from The Crow Club to finish. I hate it when I fall behind -- it puts me in a bad mood. I took some work to do at The Crow Club, thinking a change in scenery would help, and while I was sitting in the corner, I watched a waiter skimming tips off of every one of the dealers when they weren’t looking. Can you believe the goddamn nerve – I was right there. He was some special kind of idiot. He was fired on the spot, obviously. The spot being the alley behind The Crow Club where I broke his arm._

_I slept a lot on Friday, actually. I hadn’t done much of that all week. It was a nice day, come to think of it. Wylan had invited me over for dinner; I accepted. It was nice. Well, no, belay that. I’ve forgotten about the stupid kid who tried to mug me on the way with some pathetic little shiv he’d crafted himself. I stabbed him in the shoulder with it. It was shallow and superficial – he’ll be fine. He’ll moan about it for a week, but he’ll have learned his lesson: that he doesn’t know jack shit about proper thieving. He’s lucky his stupidity hasn’t killed him yet. I left him my card for when he decides to get serious._

_That’s been the week, Inej. Relatively quiet week, all things considered. No one died. Now what about you? I showed you mine. Let’s see yours. How many men have you murdered this week?_

_Is this what you wanted, Inej? Is this the kind of laid bare, no armor talk you need?_

_Say something._

_Sincerely,_

_K. Brekker_


	8. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of letters found among the private belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

_For the Dread Pirate Inej Ghafa of the True Sea,_

_You need to come for your boy, Inej. I’ve just come back from seeing a Tailor because the bastard knocked out two of my teeth. I have no idea what’s gotten into him. All I did was invite him to Wylan’s recital, and he punched square me in the mouth._

_Is something wrong? Is there anything I can do? He’s brooding, and it’s making everyone miserable. Wylan wants to know if he can help, too. He says he would very much like to avoid having teeth knocked out. He gets a little skittish about Tailors since the whole thing with Kuwei Yul-Bo._

_Are you two having a lover’s quarrel? Do we need to rough him up a bit for you? Wylan’s furiously shaking his head after hearing I was writing that. Ignore him. Say the word. I’ve got teeth to spare._

_All my love,_

_Jesper_

* * *

_Our dearest Inej,_

_You want us to be in your stand-in Nina?! I have no idea what we’ve done to deserve such an honor, but we will cherish it always. We’ve picked out stand-in Nina hats to wear while we channel her wisdom and knowledge for you. Mine’s a fedora._

_So, we started this letter and then immediately had to break for a snack. Nina-channeling is hazardous. Where were we?  
_

_Your letter. Wylan’s making a sympathetic face under his dapper Nina-channeling cap. He says he knows what it’s like to fall for bad men. I’m taking great offense._

_But, really, that’s what this is about, isn’t it? You’ve fallen in love with a man who breaks bones and knocks out teeth and has no intention of stopping. And you love that about him, and you hate that you love that. I’ve been in your unfortunate shoes. (Wylan says he has, too, but I don’t care for what he’s insinuating.) I hate to point out the obvious, but maybe you haven’t noticed – you have no intention of putting a halt to your swashbuckling, either._

_So, is it really that you’re not sure if you love Kaz Brekker? Or is it that you’re not really sure if you love this twisted side of yourself?_

_Oh, damn, that was good stuff. I’m not sure even Nina could have come up with that. I’m taking all the credit for that one._

_Wylan’s pointing out that it is possible that you do love your darker tendencies, but maybe feel like you shouldn’t. Much like loving Kaz Brekker. Perhaps this is the source of your confusion. (The merchling’s one-upping me. Or maybe he really is channeling Nina. I’m intimidated either way.)_

_Whatever it is you discover about yourself in this, know that we love Inej. Whoever you want her to be or be with. Your stand-in Ninas are ready to rend anyone who has a problem with your choice._

_Wylan’s shaking his head again. Fine, one of your stand-in Ninas is ready to rend, then._

_All of our love,_

_Jesper and Wylan_

* * *

_(unaddressed envelope)_

_My dearest Devastation,_

_Mati en sheva yelu. I have kept you waiting for too long, but trust me that I had a reason. It seemed to me the only way to make this a fair exchange is to read a letter aloud to you. I have chosen this one, because it begins with this:_

_I am in love with you, Kaz. Saints help me, it’s true._

_I am in love with the man who puts his unguarded heart into letters. I am in love with the man takes matters into his own hands. I am in love with the man who wants to make sure his friends have good birthdays, however begrudgingly, even at the expense of his own comfort. I am in love with the man who fights battles for the ones Ketterdam tries to discard._

_I am in love with the man who is trying to let down his armor as best he can._

_I am responsible for the deaths of twenty men this month. Each of them traded in humanity and innocence as if they were nothing more than jurda crop. I prayed for each soul, but only because this is what the Saints require. There was a time when each drop of blood plagued my conscience. I weighed the morality of each fight. But not anymore. You’ve devastated my notions of the world, Kaz Brekker. The black and white beliefs I held before you, while comfortable, were not real or useful to the way in which we really live. I am in love with the shade of grey you have painted my world. It gives me power that had once been stripped from me, and so much more._

_I don’t lose a minute of sleep over spilled blood anymore. When I leave here, I will do it all over again. We’re cut from the same cloth, you and I._

_You asked if your last letter was what I wanted, and the answer is yes, and more. That’s right, I’m greedy now. Another sin of yours I’ve come to embrace. I want more Brekker in your letters. I want more Rietveld in my life. I want you to stop showing me only the parts of you that you think I will find acceptable and amusing. I am in love the entire, singular you._

_I will close this letter here, so you have enough room in the margins to write something equally mortifying for me to read. Fair is fair. I’ll take my just desserts._

_With all of my love,_

_Inej_

_(addition in Kaz’s handwriting in the margin)_

_That Rietveld guy is being a real sap about this letter of yours. He wants to hold you in his arms or something equally pathetic and weak. Want to help me break his thumbs?_

_\- Brekker_

* * *

_Dearest and bravest Inej,_

_I’m not sure what you did to Brekker, but he reimbursed me for the work the Tailor did on my teeth. I don’t think he’s ever reimbursed me in, well, ever._

_Does this mean you’ve kissed and made up? Or whatever the Brekker equivalent of that is. Exchanged business cards and made up? Counted kruge together and made up?_

_Be safe out there. Come home soon._

_All my love,_

_Jesper_

* * *

_(found in the overstuffed envelope marked “Nina”)_

_Nina. NINA NINA NINA._

_I am going to tell you what kissing Kaz Brekker is like._

_Do you know that greedy feeling you get when you steal something sweet and frivolous? When you’re hiding in an alley and you sneak that first bite, and it is just so good that you decide you’re not going to share any of it at all? You’re going to eat it all right then, and you tell yourself it’s all yours and you think no one else in the world will ever know the bliss you’re feeling in that moment._

_That is what it is like. Or maybe that’s what kissing is always supposed to be like. I wouldn’t know._

_I figured out what to say, Nina. I think I would have figured it out quicker if you were here. I wrote it all down so I wouldn’t forget. And then I sat in the window of The Slat while he sat at his desk, just as we always used to, and I read to him what I’d written. That I am in love with him._

_I can’t stop grinning while I’m writing this. I can hear your squealing all the way from Fjerda._

_And now, since you will prod me until I tell you anyway, this is how it went. If I remember to when I finally know where to send these letters, I’ll enclose toffees so you can snack while you read all of this gossip. I think it goes without saying, but you are sworn to secrecy on all of this._

_He’d written a silly joke in the margin of the letter I’d just read him, and suddenly everything felt safer again. It made me laugh when I read it, and when I looked up, he was pulling off his gloves. Yes, you read that right. It made my heart do things, too._

_He came to stand in front of me by the window, and he took both of my hands in his. Honestly, that alone would have been enough. Let’s not tell him that, obviously._

_In the moment, I was waiting for him to say something. He had such a serious look on his face. But then I noticed there was sweat forming on his forehead, and he was starting to breathe really strange. I could tell he was starting to panic, and, Saints, it breaks my heart._

_I thought I’d give him an out – I tried to pull away, to let him know it was okay, to try to calm him down. But he wouldn’t do it. His hands were shaking, but he wouldn’t do it. He gripped my fingers harder, telling me to just wait, to just give him a moment. Nina, have you ever heard of anything so tragic?_

_I don’t know how long we waited like that. Minutes, hours, days. Who knows. This is not the part that you would have found endearing, I realize. Just standing there, staring at our hands together and trying to breathe. But it worked for me. I started to notice he was shaking less, and it was around that time he asked me, so quietly, to hold still._

_I think I was expecting something quick, something like the slightest brush of skin like when he kissed me in the Geldrenner. But this was different. This was why he’d been so terrified, I realized. He’d known what he’d wanted when he’d taken my hands in his._

_It was soft and slow when he kissed me. It was perfect and still too brief. He must have not been breathing the whole time, because when he pulled away, he let out this long, shaking breath and then told me he needed to sit down._

_Nina, I would commit some truly violent atrocities if it meant I could relive that moment again and again. The crew and I have serious tracking work ahead of us in the coming months, and here I am, unable to sleep for thinking of him. It’s blissful devastation, is what it is. I’m a wreck, and I don’t even care._

_I must end here or risk oozing these emotions for the rest of the night. I hope Fjerda is brimming with thrills and waffles and many kissable Fjerdans. I miss you desperately._

_All my love,_

_Inej_

_P.S. – I know you, and you’re dying to know. Yes, I stayed in The Slat this time. We slept not even touching knees, so keep calm. Even more unromantic, I discovered Kaz grinds his teeth in his sleep. I’m pretty sure he has no idea, but I’m going to have to tell him. He has got to do something about it, or next time I sleep there, he’ll have to sleep in a different room. In a different house. On the opposite side of Ketterdam. What I’m saying is it’s loud._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! I have to take a break in daily updates for a few days, but I'll be back with your regularly scheduled programming soon. So, enjoy this moment of zen. :) Thank you for reading! You are THE BEST!!


	9. Temporary Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of letters found among the private belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa

_My dearest Inej,_

_I think I’ve stared at the window for the last hour, at the spot where you said you’re in love with me. This can’t be normal behavior, and I should probably be more concerned. Tell me you’re as distracted as I am._

_I think I like kissing, but thorough reconnaissance ought to be conducted before we make any real conclusions. At least a hundred similar nights ought to do it, don’t you think? We should really know this thing inside and out – a sentence that I did not intend as a double entendre and now I immediately regret writing it. I would ordinarily be throwing this out and starting again. But you said you wanted it all, not just the sides of me that are acceptable and amusing. So, here we are and now you know. I’m only human and sometimes I write regrettable things in black ink._

_Are you’re enjoying how flummoxed you’ve left me? Because I’ve reached truly unprecedented levels of flummox. I’ve done hardly anything this week. I’ve spent a fair amount of time moving some stocks and shares around, and given the high return on investment I’m gaining back from that, I should probably be spending more of my time pencil-pushing anyway._

_Gods, I’m boring myself. I’d rather be kissing you again. I’d rather be kissing you than doing just about anything else._

_Will you still be amenable to kissing me again if the aftermath of our first kiss turns me into a simple moon-faced, pencil-pushing mercher? Inquiring minds need to know._

_It’s mine, full disclosure. It’s my inquiring mind. Tell me when I’ll be able to kiss you next. Come home and flummox me again._

_With a disgusting and mortifying amount of affection,_

_I’m yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_My most perplexing Inej,_

_This letter of yours, Inej, was a bit of a ride. It starts out so well, and then… Why wouldn’t you just tell me about the teeth grinding while you were here, if it was that bad? I could have done something, and then you might have slept better. Now what am I expected to do? I can’t very well experiment with solutions on my own, now can I?_

_I don’t know how to answer any of your questions. Am I meant to read these as concern or condescension? I suppose I still have teeth because it’s not actually as bad as you’re hyperbolizing. I don’t know why my jaw doesn’t hurt. Or maybe it does. Maybe you’ve never met me – something literally always hurts. You live with pain long enough, and it gets difficult to discern after awhile._

_Damnit, Inej. This is going to bother me._

_I’m not ready to be angry. It’s too nice being flummoxed. I propose a change in subject._

_Jesper and Wylan have done something dumb. There have been a string of break-ins in their neighborhood, which I could easily have taken care of for them, but instead Wylan’s gone and decided they need a dog. Which is beyond me – he lives with the best marksman I’ve ever known. A dog isn’t going to improve their situation. And certainly not the dog they’ve picked out._

_I think it’s supposed to be some kind of hound someday, but it’s barely weaned from its mother. They’ve named it Ambroos, and the name is bigger than the dog itself. It can fit in the middle of a single kitchen tile. It’s not going to protect them from anything except respectability. I’ve been told it’s already peed on every surface in the house and howls at least four times a night._

_Inej, it is so useless and stupid and fucking delightful. It will actually trip over its own ears when it runs to greet you at the door. It sleeps with this hot water bottle that’s nearly twice its size. I find myself visiting it almost every lunch hour. I hate myself. You have to come see it._

_All of this goes to say, you have two equally grim options for sleeping arrangements when you return next month. You get to choose between my teeth grinding or Ambroos’ whining and house breaking. You’re really excited to visit now, aren’t you?_

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_Inej, most charming treasure of my heart,_

_Miscommunications happen. We’ll call it water under the bridge. Incidentally, once I stopped grumbling, I did visit a medik for some recommendations. Wouldn’t it be something if maybe my jaw had been hurting this whole time, and I wake up one morning and find myself less loathe to face the day? Maybe you’re about to change my life again._

_The medik gave me some muscle relaxer that might help with the way stress manifests at night. You are going to be so entertained with how I’m about to test this out._

_I’m staying at Jesper and Wylan’s this weekend. We’re all sleeping in the parlor and taking turns trying to get Ambroos to do his business outside instead of on the rug. They’ll let me know how this muscle relaxer works._

_Remember this moment if you find yourself doubting the depths of my love for you, Inej. Think of me standing outside alone in the cold, dark night with the tiniest, dumbest dog in Kerch, all in the hopes that you will sleep comfortably in my bed next month._

_Fine – if we’re being completely honest, the dog listens to me, for some inexplicable reason. Jesper and Wylan begged for my help, and we made an arrangement. But the depths of my love thing is still true._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_Our strong and stalwart Inej,_

_We send our deepest regrets, but we have to do it. We tried for three nights, but now we’re lying to Kaz and telling him the muscle relaxer works. He can’t stay here again; it’s too awful. The only thing it does is make him sleep like the dead, and then he was absolutely no help with Ambroos at all. So, we’re sending him home and it’s up to you now. Our hands are too full with house breaking for this particular nonsense, too._

_Good luck and godspeed, old friend. That is a truly abhorrent sound you’ve discovered._

_Our hats are off to you._

_With deepest respect and sympathy,_

_Jesper and Wylan_

* * *

_My dearest Inej,_

_Well, the arrangement failed. Jesper and Wylan obviously cannot withstand the dreaded teeth grinding. They’ve just lied to my face and sent me back to The Slat._

_I wish I’d known I was capable of torturing with so little effort. The things I could have been doing with all that extra free time. I’d probably have far fewer scars on my knuckles._

_Never fear, my love. I am not so easily deterred. I think I’ll pay a visit to a Fabrikator this week. Maybe I just need to have my jaw wired shut._

_This evening took an interesting twist while I was in the middle of writing this letter to you. Someone knocked on the front door of The Slat. No one ever knocks. And then some events transpired, and now there’s a kid asleep in my bathtub. Don’t worry – he won’t try to kill me in my sleep tonight. I’ve locked him in. (Calm down – there’s a toilet, there’s water. What else could a person need?)_

_Explanations._

_There was a kid who tried to mug me on the street one evening a couple months back. I think I told you about it, if you ever got that letter. He had made his own shiv. He was incredibly stupid. I did what I had to do and left him with my card. He had the looks of a good spy, but far too much foolhardy self-assuredness. The Barrel needed to break him a bit more. The Barrel always does._

_It’s been cold here this week, and raining. It’s been raining for days. And it seems the kid got desperate enough._

_He came knocking tonight, and Pim brought him up. Probably twelve or thirteen by the looks of him, though he’s on the smaller side. I don’t think he’s been eating well. He’s Kaelish and homely as hell, with the red hair and freckles and a giant gap in his teeth. He said his name’s Arthur Galligan. He said he goes by Artie, and he wants to join the Dregs._

_For the record, I didn’t want to. I’d much rather leave him on the streets and pay him for information. We have no room here in The Slat. Recruitment has been at all-time high. And Artie’s got that mean, unpredictable spark in his beady eyes still and a smart mouth to go with it. He does not have the air of someone easy to rein in. I fully expect him to try to stab me again._

_I don’t know what it is I like about him._

_And it’s too cold and wet for anyone to be sleeping outside. We gave him some dry clothes and the only available place in The Slat to sleep: my bathtub. I’ve moved the bed in front of the door so he can’t get out and slit my throat in the night when my teeth grinding inevitably pushes him to the brink of insanity._

_I am as dumb as Jesper and Wylan, aren’t I? Damnit._

_If I’m found dead in the morning, let this letter serve as evidence of the perpetrator’s identity and motives. Avenge me, Inej._

_Yours until my untimely demise,_

_Kaz_

_P.S. – I just had this blinding image of the face you’re making while you’re reading this. I will find another room to lock this kid in while you’re here, I swear it. There will not be some Kaelish mugger in my bathtub while you’re in my bed. This is a temporary arrangement. Just so we’re clear._

* * *

_Kaz -_

_Please tell me you let Artie out of your bathroom. Did you ask him anything at all about how he got to Ketterdam? About where his parents are? Is he being fed?? I’ll be there in a week – do not kill this kid before then._

_And, for Saint’s sake, stop locking him up alone in rooms in The Slat. Sankta Alina, Kaz. I would stab you, too._

_With love and exasperation,_

_Inej_

_P.S. – I’m bringing earplugs. Don’t you dare let a Fabrikator anywhere near your mouth. I only just started kissing you. I am not letting you ruin it now with a bunch of wires._


	10. What Goes Unsaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of letters found among the private belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

_My dearest Inej,_

_I’m sitting up on the roof of The Slat as I write this. The view is unchanged, but there’s definitely something lacking without you here. It’s just not quite the same._

_I don’t like being reminded of your absence up here, but it’s about the only quiet place I can find anymore. I feel overrun with pups and Kaelish children. Yes, I know there’s only one of each. That’s one hundred times more than there were last month._

_Artie asks of you every day, as if he’s the one who discovered how magnificent you are. He’s still talking about the soup you made while you were here. For that I can’t blame him. I would, too, if he wasn’t taking up all the air in The Slat with his incessant chatter. Sometimes I wish he’d just stab me already so I’d have a reason to throw him out. But only sometimes._

_I didn’t hate seeing how you took care of him, I admit. He is considerably less spiteful since you fed him food that wasn’t waffles or toffees and talked about finding his family in Leflin. I have to be honest, though – you worry me, Inej._

_I worry that you’re needlessly getting his hopes up. Ketterdam is not forgiving or gracious, and I wince a little when I see him start dreaming. And I worry for you, too. Does your heart bleed like this for every soul you sweep up out of the sea? Inej, you must be exhausted._

_I know I tease about getting you back on land, but I mean it now more than ever. Stay a little longer next time. Rest a little more. I’ll put you up at the Geldrenner, and you can choose to participate in our shenanigans only when it suits you. Or I’ll put up Jesper and Wylan, and you can have the Van Eck mansion and Ambroos all to yourself. I hear he only pees on some things now instead of everything, and his company is infinitely better than any of ours._

_I suppose what I’ve been thinking since you left is this. I watched you care for Artie, and I began to feel selfish. Each time you visit, I keep you all to myself and try to make things as they once were. I think I finally saw this time just how much more you are doing now. You’ve outgrown Ketterdam far more than I’d realized. I admire you for it and I worry for you that much more. Let me at least ensure that you’re doing absolutely nothing the next time you’re here. Let someone else take care of you for a while. You’re clearly taking care of everyone else._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_Inej!_

_My gods, woman. And here I thought you were religious. You cannot write such amorous things in these letters – Artie could read this, and he’s very impressionable. Ghezen._

_If I’d known my offer could cause you to write such delightful filth, I’d have sent you to the Geldrenner six years ago. Hell, I’m now considering buying the whole damn place just for you. What do you think? Should we give this all up for siren’s call of the hospitality business? You can lie in bed in all day and order room service, and I’ll hand out keys. I strike you as hospitable, right? No?_

_I want to answer your propositions in kind, but Artie keeps waiting at the door and now this is getting uncomfortable. Pim is training him on his first assignment today, and I may have mentioned I would be observing. I think he thinks it’s some sort of official test, but it’s really only for my own amusement. Pim’s going to kick his ass. I should have thought to sell tickets._

_So, I’ll leave the rest up to you. Tell me more about what happens after you – how did you word it exactly? – throw me up against the hotel wall?_

_Ghezen, Inej. Promise me you’ll at least mind the leg._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_To our favorite Inej,_

_This is an odd sort of letter to write. I think anyone else would think I’m being paranoid, but you and I know Kaz better than anyone. And I am concerned. Something is going on._

_Wylan and I had lunch with some investors today, and when we returned home, Kaz was asleep in our parlor, sprawled out on the couch. He’d let himself in, which I realize he’d quite capable of doing – he just never has before. He took the liberty of letting Ambroos out of his crate, which is almost sweet, except while he’s been asleep, Ambroos seems to have alternated between napping with him and peeing on the rug, and now we’re just annoyed._

_It’s been several hours at this point, and he’s barely moved. I keep poking at him when there's a significant lag in the teeth grinding, much to Wylan’s chagrin, mostly to make sure he’s not died on my couch, but he seems fine. Or, rather, he seems alive, anyway._

_What is going on? Something has to be going on. Do you know anything? Is he sick? Is he dying? Is he in some kind of trouble? This is so weird. When are you coming back? Can it be tonight? Saints, I wish I could just send a hot air balloon to pick you up. I’m not overreacting, am I? I don’t think I’m overreacting._

_Just…do some probing when you write again. He’s not going to tell me anything, but maybe he will tell you._

_Because it really seems like there’s something he’s not telling any of us._

_Sincerely,_

_Jesper_


	11. A Balancing Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of letters found among the private belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

_My darling Inej,_

_Don’t think for a minute I don’t know what you’re aiming at with this letter full of questions. You may have my heart, but you can’t be privy to all of my schemes, especially when I’m now aware that your birthday is next month. Did you think I would forget? My dear, I forget nothing._

_So, no, to all of your questions. I’m not telling you what I’ve been plotting lately. I’m not telling you what has been on my mind. I’m not telling you if I’ve been visiting Jesper and Wylan’s more than usual. You must wait in suspense just as Jesper did. That’s part of the experience._

_And don’t make that scoffing sound when you read this. I remind you that this whole birthday gift experience business was all your idea. You have no one to blame but yourself._

_How do I sleep at night, you asked? Noisily, I’ve been told, but just fine, thank you._

_With all of my scheming heart,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_To my favorite Inej,_

_Has he said anything at all to you – regarding the incident in my last letter? We found him on the couch again this morning. It’s at least becoming less startling when it happens. I just wish I understood it. He has that uncanny ability to vanish without explanations, and Wylan and I aren’t sure how to bring it up since he’s so clearly bent on pretending it’s not happening._

_I suppose if our sofa and our dog are what he needs right now for whatever is happening inside that ridiculous brain of his, then I’m glad we’re able to help in some small way. He’s not taking advantage of much. We only wish he’d trust us with more._

_I mean, we’ve all have nearly died for his schemes on more than one occasion. Should I remind him of that? What could possibly be too much to ask of us at this point?_

_All my love,_

_Jesper_

* * *

_To our feared and beloved Captain_

_For her twenty-first birthday:_

_Cake and kvas and mysteries galore_

_Are awaiting your arrival_

_Return to Ketterdam if you wish to know more_

_Your presence is requested at the enclosed address, at 3 bells the 18 th of October. _

_No questions. All will be revealed in time._

_Love,_

_Your favorite Crows_

_(addition in Kaz’s handwriting)_

_That gods-awful poem was Jesper and Wylan’s idea. Withhold judgment until after the evening. I’ll make it worth your while._

* * *

_Dear Nina,_

_I’m sailing away from Ketterdam today having nearly every single one of my birthday wishes fulfilled but one. But I won’t hold it against you. I know why you couldn’t have been there, or at least, I understand why I don’t know the specifics of why you couldn’t be there. Just know that, at the time of writing this and always, you are sorely missed._

_You would be so proud, though, with how our boys outdid themselves. I am impressed and moved and, frankly, still a little speechless. I’m honestly still replaying the memories and recalling the half-starved scrappy little things we all were seven years ago, and the two images side-by-side could not be any more different. I hope, wherever you are, the passage of time is bringing you similar new hopes. You deserve that and so much more, Nina._

_Where to begin? You know, years ago, just before we started the Ice Court, Kaz made me this lofty, insane promise. That, if we did it right, we’d be kings and queens. I’ll be damned if he wasn’t right._

_The day started at a dressmaker’s shop. I’d been given an address and a time to arrive, and that alone was a little jaw-dropping. It was in The Lid – an absolute premier spot I’d never even heard of when I lived in Ketterdam. I was grossly underdressed when I arrived. It’s not that I have anything against dresses – you know this. They’re just not at all practical for my line of work, and so I have none. I confess that sometimes I’ll admire them in a shop window when I’m out and about in a port town, but why in the world would I ever spend the coin on one? I wouldn’t even know what suits me anymore._

_This dressmaker, though, Nina. She knew all everything about the right fabrics, the right cut, the right make. They’d booked me the entire shop all to myself, just me and the dressmaker. She found me an absolute perfect gown – I’m staring at it right now. I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do with it now that my birthday’s over. Maybe I’ll prop it up in my desk chair and have tea with it every once and awhile. It’s this breathtaking light, pastel yellow, like sunshine, with all this detailed beadwork and exposed shoulders and what the dressmaker called an A-line waist. You might know what that means. I think it’s just dressmaker code for very pretty. She tailored me into it right there in the shop and fitted me with shoes and a cloak to match._

_(My one regret was having no idea what to do with my hair. You’d cringe, but I left it in the braid. A minor detail the boys overlooked.)_

_It took a good few hours to get fixed up in the dress, and it was nearly evening by then. The dressmaker assured me it was all paid for, and right about that time, a black carriage pulled up in front of the shop. And Jesper and Wylan had their heads out the windows, shouting like madmen at me from the streets. I think the entirety of The Lid knew then about my birthday._

_Kaz was in the carriage, too, hiding his enthusiasm as he does so well. I have to tell you, though, Nina, I won’t ever forget the look on his face when I got into the carriage. He was clearly trying his best to remain cool and unaffected, but I saw it, the way his jaw dropped slightly and his breath caught. This is obviously why I can never get rid of this dress. I’m just imagining what he’s going to end up writing in his letter after this, since, verbally, he actually managed to mumble that I looked beautiful, right there in front of Jesper and Wylan._

_You know, it’s interesting. When he says it, it’s not at all like hearing a man in the Menagerie say it. When he says it, it’s like it’s not just the dress. I don’t know how else to explain it. It’s the same words, and yet it’s so very different._

_And it only got better from there. The city was getting dusky, and the lamps were being lit. We were still in The Lid, amongst carriages and carriages of the filthy rich from the Financial District, the Government District, and tourists from all over. I kept leaning my head out the window to figure out what was coming next._

_Nina – they had bought us all ticket to the Cirque Euphoric._

_Maybe this means nothing to you. But it’s only the most ancient, most elite, most elaborate traveling circus in the world. It can only be afforded anymore by the wealthiest of tourists. And they were there doing an entire season in The Lid in Ketterdam, under a big top the size of two city blocks._

_Nina, you don’t understand. My entire childhood, I kept posters and drawings and any relic that made its way to the markets from the Cirque Euphoric. Their high wire artists set the standard for all other performers in the business. The things they do in the sky, Nina, are things I haven’t even begun to imagine yet._

_Sufficed to say, as soon as I figured out where we were going, I lost it. I did not know what to do with myself. I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I burst into tears. It was a horrifying few moments for everyone involved. They were fairly certain they’d done something horribly wrong, instead of so wonderfully right. But that only last a couple minutes. I was able to get it together before Kaz could yell at the driver to take us back to East Stave. And then the merriment resumed, soaked handkerchief and all._

_Oh, Saints, Nina, it was everything I’d ever imagined and more._

_I don’t know how he knew this, but Kaz had reserved us the very best seats. You don’t want to sit too high at a circus or you’ll miss entertainment on the ground. Sitting too low presents a problem, too, because you want to be able to see the footwork the high wire artists can do. We were right in the middle, just where I’d have picked seats myself. Sankta Alina, I felt like a little girl again. I haven’t been that happy in years. I’d almost forgotten what it was to be that happy. And to watch it all with such beloved friends, who knew me well enough to know I would like this, to watch and hear their reactions to the performances. They might have loved it almost as much as I did. Almost._

_We took another carriage ride after, hours later, when it was dark and the streets were bustling with very different crowds. I would have assumed that was the end of it, but Kaz had made us reservations in a private dining room at a fine dining club I’d never heard of._

_My entire crew from The Wraith was waiting in the dining room. We ate a meal there fit for royalty, with drinks and a cake big enough that even you might have gotten sick of it after awhile. I don’t think I’ll need to eat again for weeks._

_It must have been around midnight or past when we finally rolled ourselves out of the club. We took another carriage ride, stopping first at the Van Eck mansion so Wylan could haul a decently-sloshed Jesper off to bed and hopefully not to the toilet bowl. I actually never heard how he ended up faring that night._

_And then it was finally just Kaz and me. If I hadn’t been so tired then, I think I’d have tried to snog his face off the whole way home. I’d been noticing his smug little smirk all evening. He’d planned the whole thing. Like I said, kings and queens. He’d made good on his word at last._

_But we were both exhausted on that final carriage ride – he’d booked me a room at the Geldrenner. And it’s not like I needed anything else at that point. The whole experience had already exceeded my expectations. He leaned back against the window, and I rested against him under his arm. We both dozed off there before the end of the ride._

_Which is another point I realize I haven’t mentioned to you yet. This has been happening lately. Kaz falling asleep in unusual places. Jesper’s been worrying about it for weeks now. I was having a hard time believing it until I witnessed it myself. Tell me this isn’t weird:_

_We got to the Geldrenner, and I asked him to come up. Oh, calm down. Are we really going to pretend like this is shocking at this point? Frankly, given the number of years, it’s shocking we weren’t sneaking into hotel rooms four years ago. And it’s not like we do much more than kiss. Although, I thought about it. It was my birthday after all, and he had just gifted me the experience of a lifetime and a luxury hotel room to boot. I was definitely thinking about it._

_But that’s not the weird part. Let’s agree that’s not the weird part, anyway. We came up, and we did very little talking. There’d been plenty of talking happening all night, and I was more interested in other things he can do with his mouth. Kissing, Nina, Saints. I can sense you doing that waggling thing with your eyebrows. I’m talking about just a lot of kissing, as soon as he let me get my hands on him. The kind of kissing every grown woman should have on her birthday, kisses that slide into more kisses, like there’s nothing else in the world happening but this._

_But then the weird part happened. We’re lying on the bed (fully clothed, Nina, he even still had his gloves on), or at least, he’s lying back on the pillows and I’m kissing him, and then I notice he wasn’t really moving. And I sat back a moment, and I swear to you, he had fallen asleep. Believe me, I called him out on it right then, literally – “Are you sleeping?!” And he flinched right awake and apologized and blamed it on the kvas, and I might have even believed him._

_Except Jesper keeps talking about this strange new habit of his. And, as I replay the night’s memories in my head, it does feel like something was off. He seemed paler. He seemed quieter. He seemed – well, tired._

_Now I can’t kick this feeling like there’s something more happening behind the scenes. I wish you were here, Nina, and you could work your magic like you do and just squeeze the truth out of his brain somehow. I’ll have to settle for my own magic, I guess._

_When I look over my letters from him, he’s off-handedly mentioned feeling overwhelmed, particularly since this kid Artie joined the Dregs. And, don’t get me wrong, the kid is kind of handful. His moods swing wide between murderous rage and affectionate admiration. But he’s not Kaz’s sole responsibility. Pim and Anika do a lot to keep him on task and out of the bad kind of trouble. I wouldn’t think this would be enough to drive him to exhaustion._

_But then again, Artie is the same age Jordie was. I wonder how much that gets to him. I wonder how much time he spends avoiding that. I wonder if he allows himself to think of it at all. Would that be enough to push him to the edge? Or is it something more?_

_It couldn’t be me, could it? Am I becoming exhausting?_

_Ugh, Nina, come squeeze this out of my brain, too. And then come dress shopping with me, because it is much more enjoyable than I thought it would be._

_Missing you terribly,_

_Inej_


	12. Read Between The Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of letters found among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

_Inej, my darling,_

_This should be a very easy letter for me to write, considering how the sights and sensations of your last visit are all I think of anymore. But I’m practically tongue-tied. I think I’ve composed about a thousand different letters in my head, but when I sit to put it down on paper, it all falls pathetically short of describing how I feel. I’m starting to doubt if there are even words in existence that could describe what it is to wake up next to you, to the softness of your lips in the tangle of your arms. It is so much more than your loveliness or the ache of wanting you, although both are just as real and potent. It comes down to this: to wake up with you is to wake up at home, no matter where we’ve rested our heads._

_And because of that, even though my intentions are to compose eloquent sentences to your perfection and the exquisite longing that has overtaken me, all that comes out on paper is the sad squeal of homesickness. It’s not at all what I want to be saying, but this is what I’ve been reduced to. I miss you more than I was prepared to, and I have always been prepared to miss you a lot. It’s alarming how essential you’ve become to me, and yet there is no amount of kruge for which I would trade this feeling. Instead, I’m going to cherish it and nurture it, and that will be enough until I am home again._

_With all of my heart,_

_Kaz_

_P.S. – Well, shit. I hope this letter arrives to Os Kervo in time for you. I meant to drop it at the post a week ago, but I’ve just discovered it’s been sitting on my desk this whole time. It’s all still true, by the way, even if you’re reading this a month later. I miss you. I love you. Don’t do anything stupid._

* * *

_My confusing Inej,_

_Inej, love, I am trying to romance you, and you’re sending me letters with questions about Artie. But fine. You need a Brekker letter. Let me shore up my bruised ego first, and then I’ll address your questions._

_Artie is a conniving pain in the ass. He’s an unapologetic kleptomaniac who literally can’t walk two feet out of the front door without fishing through someone else’s pockets. I appreciate the skill when it’s useful, but not when it’s basically a compulsion. If I’m having a hard time with him, it’s only from the enormous headache I have from wincing every fifteen minutes in his presence._

_And he’s such an angry kid. Pim’s keeping him out of fights with other Dregs probably twice a day. Not that I can blame him. Ketterdam’s streets are an angry place to find yourself orphaned, and it takes ages to shake the rage. I’m not sure if I’ve even discovered what it takes to shake that leech. Revenge helps. Kruge is nice. But are these really the lessons I ought to be imparting on a kid whose parents brought him here for a better life? I do look at him sometimes and find myself thinking, what would I want Jordie to know? How would I want Jordie to be living?_

_Jordie was his age, you know, when he died._

_And then sometimes I look at him with such outrage, I want to rip his face off. What right does he have to be angry? Jordie was never angry. Jordie ought to have been so angry. Would Jordie be angry now? If he had lived, is this what he would have been like? And if it is, then Jordie would never have survived Ketterdam anyway. That’s a hell of a pill to swallow._

_I don’t think I’m answering any of your questions. It is kind of a relief to write this out, though. As a rule, this is a topic I avoid at all costs, but you are the one who requested no armor._

_So, if I’m being completely honest, Artie is not worth the headache. It would take some kind of miracle to craft him into someone we could trust, and I’m the last person capable of that kind of conjuring. But I’m keeping him here because if Jordie and I had relatives somewhere across the sea, I would have wanted to be taken to them. You’re the person capable of these miracles, and if he has family in Leflin, you’ll find them. If there’s the chance to do something right by Jordie, then I’ll do it. I guess I’m not without my own compulsions._

_And then, once you’ve worked your magic, I can finally get my bathtub back. So, you know, no pressure._

_With all of my heart,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_Inej –_

_This is not a request that you come home, but merely a suggestion that you consider. Ambroos woke us up last night, barking like mad. Someone had left an ominous message posted to the front door. I mean, I guess you could call it a death threat. That’s what Wylan wants it called anyway. It doesn’t use the word “death” in it, per se, but, you know, read between the lines._

_It said: You should have questioned your loyalties when you had the chance. The day of reckoning comes for all traitors._

_When I took it to Kaz, he barely gave it two glances. Inej, he’s getting them, too. I mean, no, he didn’t say that in so many words, exactly. Read between the lines._

_I don’t like this one bit. I’ll take a gun fight any day of the week over this shit. Who does this? What kind of sick fuck does this instead of just shooting someone they hate?_

_I really should have convinced Wylan to get a bigger dog._

_Be careful. Stay vigilant._

_Jesper_

* * *

_Dear Inej,_

_I don’t know when you’ll get this, but you have to know that I didn’t want to do it. Well, I did at first, but then I didn’t. You don’t have to find my family in Leflin. If you already have, just tell them I died in Ketterdam. Tell them I died doing something good._

_Stay away from here, Inej. You’re too nice for this._

_Love,_

_Artie_

* * *

_(Unaddressed envelope found waiting at Fifth Harbor)_

_I–_

_Assume you’re being followed. Don’t go to our house. Don’t go to The Slat. Don’t go to The Crow Club._

_Warehouse District. We’ll find you._

_\- J_


	13. A New Bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of letters found among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a personal note, I burned the shit out of my right hand today because I'm an idiot who forgets that hot things are hot, and it's made editing this not exactly pleasant. Sorry in advance for typos, but not for the additional, tropey angst. I can't help myself. *evil cackle* I just love you all too much to put off posting today. So there.

_A final warning to the traitors who still call themselves Dregs:_

_Your ungrateful, deceitful usurper of a commander can no longer shelter you from the consequences of your betrayal. You are each given one opportunity to remember who gave you this life and show the proper respect to the heir of the ~~Haskell empire~~. Defectors will be disposed of like faithless filth you really are. _

_Signed,_

_Rhett Haskell and Co._

_(in the margins next to the crossed out wording, in Jesper’s handwriting)_

_OH WHAT A CROCK OF SHIT_

* * *

_(hastily scrawled on old, yellowing paper)_

_Dear Nina,_

_I’m sorry for the state of this letter. I don’t know if I’ll ever send it, honestly. It’s dark where I am but for the wash of moonlight, and Wylan thinks I should sleep but I’m going mad, and I have to write something._

_What was my last letter to you? Something about kissing and hotel rooms and dreams coming true? When will I learn, Nina. When will I learn how quickly it all can vanish._

_I came back to Ketterdam in a hurry. I’d received a slurry of disturbing letters in my post box at Os Kervo. Something was brewing back in the Barrel. Something I couldn’t leave them to fight alone. (That’s something I shouldn’t ignore, isn’t it?)_

_But it was too late. It had begun before I even entered Kerch waters. Thank the Saints Jesper was there, Nina. Thank the Saints._

_I’m getting ahead of myself._

_Bluntly put, Kaz collapsed. Middle of the day, just after lunch, not a soul touching his skin. Gods, Nina, he’s only twenty-two. He was at Jesper and Wylan’s. He’d come back from taking Ambroos on a walk and was literally in mid-snarky-sentence when Jesper says his eyes went all unfocused and he stumbled to his knees. They made him rest on the sofa, and Wylan went to get a medik and while he was gone, Kaz lost consciousness. Jesper’s still shaken from it. Apparently, he seized, foamed at the mouth – terrifying, disgusting shit, Jesper says. The medik was able to stop it._

_Nina, if he had been at The Slat when this happened…_

_It gets worse. Of course it would get worse. When will I learn? Wylan had had a suspicion from saints-knows-what and convinced the medic to force-feed him an antidote for a compound called checconide. Sankta Alina, what would we have done without Wylan. I don’t know how he knows these things. He was completely right. Someone had been poisoning Kaz’s food with tiny doses of checconide. For who knows how long. He’s been tired for ages, Nina. It could have been weeks. Months, if they were particularly non-committal about it._

_And to think I gave him a hard time about falling asleep on my birthday._

_He’s looking at a lengthy recovery, and taking him back to The Slat to recover was out of the question. Jesper and Wylan did the sensible thing – they’d started to make plans to go investigate in East Stave. But that was before the next death threat came in._

_Seems like there’s a new bastard in the Barrel, Nina. An actual bastard this time, spawned by Per Haskell himself, who, I don’t know, found himself hard up for cash and decided he was going to be a big shot now. He goes by Rhett, and Jesper says he looks as stabbable as he sounds._

_I’m going to make him beg me for death._

_He used Artie Galligan when he was alone on the streets and aching from his first stab wound. He took that poor boy who had nowhere else to go and groomed his newborn grudge. He took advantage of Kaz’s one weakness, his decency for other little canal rats, and used it against him. He convinced Artie to join the Dregs and start slipping checconide into Kaz’s food._

_They’re going to write dissertations on the new ways I will discover to make this man hurt._

_For now, though, we’re living in the hole. That’s what we’re calling it anyway. Warehouse district. Abandoned textile mill. That’s where I found them when I finally made it to Fifth Harbor. Kaz, Jesper, Wylan, the medik. Ambroos, too. Haskell knows Kaz isn’t dead. And he knows where Wylan and Jesper live. I have to get them out of the city. I have to convince them to let me get them out of the city. I have to figure out how to get them out of the city._

_Because there’s also another matter to consider that I don’t want to consider at all._

_The checconide antidote can only do so much after such prolonged exposure. In short, Kaz is not awake. We have him with us in the warehouse, and we’re trying to keep him comfortable. Keep him stable. The medik informed Jesper and Wylan – the medik’s exact words were, “This is a gamble.” We have medicinals and capsules, and there are all sorts of things the medic is doing to keep him cool to bring the fever down and aid his body in recovering what it can. I hate that phrase. I hate it. Recovering what it can. The medik says we won’t know how full of a recovery to expect until he wakes up._

_That bitch even had the nerve to say “if he wakes up.”_

_Nina, I need you right now. I don’t know what to do or where to begin. I have to get him to the Wraith, but I don’t know how we can move him from this warehouse like this without being discovered. I feel like a sitting duck, just waiting beside this makeshift cot we have him on. We don’t even have light – just the full moon over the harbor through the tall pane glass windows. I hate it. It makes him look like a ghost._

_I’m going crazy. I can’t just sit here. I have to do something. I have to get them all out. I have to eviscerate Rhett Haskell and leave him in the sun for the flies. I have to get Artie from him and get him to Leflin._

_And we cannot lose Kaz. I simply refuse this. He has to wake up. He has to open his damn eyes. He has to see how fucking adorable it is that Ambroos has not left his side and pretend to be unaffected by it. Saints, the reason Kaz Brekker dies will not be his enduring generosity to Ketterdam’s forgotten children. There is no good in this world at all if that happens._

_Nina, I’m so scared. I should have kissed him more. I should have stayed longer. I should have said he was essential to me, too. My gods, my last letter to him was just a bunch of snooping questions about Artie in a veiled attempt to get him to open up about his brother. The last words I have of his are “And then I can finally have my bathtub back. No pressure.” That’s… that’s nothing. That’s an absurd ending. That can’t be it._

_I have to go back to thinking about fileting Rhett Haskell, or I’m going to lose it completely._

_Nina, he’s not even grinding his teeth..._


	14. Interlude II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter found among the personal belongings of Kaz Brekker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sitting on this one for a hot minute, so, here, have two today. :)

A letter found among the personal belongings of Kaz Brekker.

_Kaz._

_You know, when you first started writing these letters, I didn’t like it when you’d call Ketterdam home. You’d tell me to come home, and I would want to correct you. Tell me to come visit Ketterdam, I’d want to say. This place has never been home to me. It was the place of captivity and terror and survival, but home?_

_But your last letter made so much sense to me. Home is not a place. Home is safety and belonging. And that is what you’ve become to me, too. I should have said it then. I was distracted and worried, and I should have told you instead. That I now know what you meant when you wrote of homesickness. I keep lying beside you and waiting for you to open your eyes so I can come home again, too. So, you can see you are home and safe, too._

_Do you know what I keep thinking of while I lie here? That morning after my birthday. I know, I can practically hear you gripe about going through all the trouble of planning such an extravagant evening, but the next morning is what twists my heart. You remember, right? How we’d fallen asleep in our fancy clothes, and in the warm morning light, you held me close and we kissed before we even fully opened our eyes. How that was quite the opposite of terrifying for both of us. Finally, you said. And then I needed to change out of all of my layers, and I asked for your help with the back. I still think of the way your fingers shook when you pushed my hair to the side. I know you hate this about yourself, but I would not change it for the world. There is so much safety and belonging in our shared anxiety. And then you cursed and fumbled and sighed in exasperation over the web of laces and confusing clasps and layers for the next twenty minutes, and I swear I have never laughed so hard. When I stood up and saw that you had covered your eyes so I could change comfortably, I thought to myself, there is no one on this earth I love more._

_There is no one on this earth I love more, Kaz Brekker. And I will tell you as much to your face when you wake up, because I refuse to accept anything less than your recovery. I love you now and I will love you then and I will love you even when your fingers no longer shake and you don’t have to cover your eyes anymore._

_So, will you let me save you this time, Kaz? Will you let me take you away from this? Is Ketterdam really your home anyway? Can we finally let go of this place that is so hell-bent on breaking us? There is an endless expanse of world out there, Kaz, with all sorts of places and people. You do not have to keep taking this poison in the name of your brother's memory. I have to believe Jordie would not want you to, either._

_I know you will want to fight this battle. I know your pride will recoil at the idea of letting go. I promise you it does not have to mean that Rhett Haskell walks free. We can scheme a new way. I don’t know what it is yet, because it’s dark and I’m having a hard time focusing on anything beyond watching you breathe. (We can laugh later about how creepy that makes me.) But I know the scheme is there, still a little blurry and out of reach, but not impossible to seize. Let’s try to figure this out together. Let’s fight our way out together, once and for all._

_I am begging you, Kaz. Open your eyes and come home._

_Your Inej_


	15. No Parlay for Cheats and Cowards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of letters found among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa

_Inej,_

_Haskell’s asked me to deliver this message to you to request a parlay. He and his crew can’t maintain this tenuous hold on the Dregs while Kaz still lives, and he knows you want to make it back to the Wraith._

_I would like you to know that, while we all appear as faithless as Haskell wants us to look, many of us still back Kaz Brekker. If it’s a fight you’re planning, I have names to add to your numbers._

_Anika_

_Anika,_

_You tell him this. There will be no parlay for cheats and cowards. I have no intention of bargaining. If he can come out from behind his poisons and small children, he can fight me for Kaz. I’ll even let him name the time and place. That will be the last of my generosity._

_Can you get a message to Specht on the Wraith for me?_

_Inej_

* * *

_Specht,_

_There has been a coup attempt on the Dregs, led by Per Haskell’s bastard son and his lot of cronies, and we are pinned down in the warehouse district. Kaz has been gravely hurt and must be moved from the city. I need your help getting him to the Wraith. I will be sending Wylan with him to look after him. Wylan is not going to like it, but he is the one I trust to continue to administer the medicinals the medik has left with us. You must make sure he goes anyway._

_The risks: Assume the Wraith and Fifth Harbor are being watched. I have been informed that our enemies have placed snipers all over the city, awaiting our movements._

_However, you can trust Anika. I need the two of you to find us a route to the harbor, the sooner the better. Jesper and I will be staying behind to meet with Haskell. Send reinforcements._

_Inej_

_P.S. – There will also be a small dog in tow. I know. Don’t ask. Just be prepared to try to keep it quiet. It’s weirdly important to everyone._

_Captain,_

_We have mapped our route. Anika can guide your route to the shore in the warehouse district. I will take a rowboat out to meet you at the hook in the coastline, 4 bells before dawn. According to Anika’s recon, it must be then -- no later, no earlier._

_I have sent word into the city to call in the crew from their R &R. We will be ready to stand with you tomorrow._

_Specht_

* * *

_My dearest Kaz,_

_I couldn’t wait for your permission. I couldn’t wait at all. I hope that you will understand when you read this. I think that you will._

_I keep thinking of when we were younger, so much younger, and you were helping me practice with the knives. I kept nicking my fingers, and they hurt like hell. I remember so clearly the first day I wanted to call it quits, when every one of my digits was slashed and bleeding. You didn’t even flinch. You smacked the knife from my hands with your cane, looking like a grumpy old man trapped in a teenager’s body. “Self-pity is a useless distraction,” you told me. “Self-pity gets you killed.”_

_I do feel sorry for myself. My love, I feel sorry for you more. I know this means you will wake up far from home, and you may hate me for it. But it would have killed us all to stay here because of it._

_I love you. I will come for you when I can, and I will write when I can until then._

_Your Inej_

_P.S. – Pat Ambroos for me. He’s been the very best boy._

* * *

_(written at the top: “Specht: Please read to Wylan”)_

_To my very favorite human being,_

_I’ve said it before, and hopefully this won’t be the last time I say it. But just in case this thing goes sideways, I’m writing it down for you, which I recognize is not the kindest thing to do to you, but we both know this isn’t the first time I’ve been an insensitive ass. I’m just trying to make something a little bit right out of this awful mess. You are so well-loved, Wy, and if the worst happens, there are so many people who can read this to you again and again (which is, obviously, how my last words ought to be treated regardless, whenever they happen to occur)._

_The last few years with your stupid face have been the best years of my life, far better than any I deserved. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Wylan Van Eck. You are truly the reason I’m going in pistols blazing today. I will fight til my last breath for the chance to have our life back the way it was: just you and me, fighting over the pile of dirty clothes on the floor and who’s going to take Ambroos out next. (It’ll be me this time, I promise. And probably several more times after that. I know I'm going to have some making up to do.)_

_I know you’re going to be very unhappy when this is read to you. I’m very unhappy writing it. This is complete bullshit, but I am hopeful that it’s bullshit that we’ll be laughing about someday. Maybe. Fingers crossed._

_I love you more than words can say. I love you so much I just keep using stupid clichés because sometimes, even after all these years, my brain just stops working right around you. Thank you for that, and for loving me, for the best years of my life. Let’s have lots more after this, ok?_

_With every bit of my dumbass heart,_

_Jesper_


	16. My Dearest Jailbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of letters found among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

_Good morning, Sunshine!_

_If you are reading this, you are probably waking up alone and wondering where you are and how you got there. And your assumptions are correct – Wylan and I are indeed criminal masterminds who’ve drugged you and kidnapped you and sold you to the Shu. Now all of your suits are mine!_

_Yes, I’m joking. Don’t kill me. In all of this mess, the one thing I’ve found amusing is thinking of how this must all be playing out from your perspective. You take a dog for a walk, you fall asleep on my couch, you wake up surrounded by Shu. Sorry about that. The real truth is you were poisoned, pretty badly. Inej says the Shu have the best hospitals and mediks – you’re in Bhez Ju. And before you start complaining, we paid a lot of money to convince them to take you, so keep the whining to a minimum._

_I know your Shu’s a little rusty, but Wylan is with you. His Shu is also rusty, but between the two of you, hopefully you’ll manage all right. As soon as you’ve got a clean bill of health (just physically speaking – no one’s assessing your laundry list of mental problems, don’t worry), Specht is prepared to bring you home._

_That’s the where of it all with a bit of the why. I imagine you have a lot more questions. Why were you poisoned, for example? Great question, Kaz. I think it’s because you stabbed a twelve-year-old. Can you not do that again, please? It really pissed him off, and some old enemies happened to catch wind of it and then we had to fight them. Which enemies, you ask? Yes, with you, this statement does require some clarification; there are so many. The Haskells, Kaz. I know, your favorites._

_They tried to seize control of the Dregs, but they had kind of banked on you dying. Thank the Saints you’re stubborn in that department. Inej came back and handled it. Oh, you want to know how? I’ll tell you how, but if you’re going to be gross about how amazing she was, do it in private, all right?_

_Right. Let me set the scene. It was early morning in the warehouse district, sun coming up over the harbor. We hadn’t slept in days. We’d whisked you to the coast to meet Specht just the morning prior, before sunrise. We’d pressured Wylan to go, too – it was unpleasant. There may have been tears. (Not mine, let’s get that on the record right now.) And then Inej was orchestrating a massive takedown. Anika was delivering missives while pretending to look loyal to Haskell. (Whatever you’re paying her, it’s not enough.) The crew of the Wraith was assembling. Pistols, knives, explosives. We were all ready for the showdown of the decade._

_(For you, Brekker. I hope you’re picking up on this. You may be a bastard, but you’re our bastard. No one else is allowed to poison you but us.)_

_Inej had brokered terms with Haskell, and they had agreed to meet in the warehouse district. Haskell wanted a gentlemen’s duel – pistols at dawn -- which was downright laughable given the cheating tactics he’d already shown willing to employ. But Inej was eager to make a show of his humiliation for any remaining holdouts._

_I was nervous, I’ll admit. Guns and bullets are my thing. I was not happy that she was acquiescing to Haskell’s wishes – she’s meant for knives. I’m learning, though, as I’m sure you are, that second-guessing Inej is a waste of energy._

_And she assured me it wouldn’t matter whether she won or lost, not with the attack she was strategizing with her crew. She and Anika were working out how to use them to take out every one of Haskell’s snipers without word getting back to him. You know, the sneaky things Inej does best._

_So, the morning of the duel arrives. Haskell and five of his associates stride in to the warehouse district, armed to the teeth in pistols and grenades. It feels very much my last morning in the world, and if Inej feels the same way, she doesn’t look it. She’s sharpened all of her knives all night until they’re practically mirrors, hidden away in all of her limbs, and I loaned her one of my pistols (I think I cried over that)._

_Rhett Haskell made some bloviating demands about how we were to hand you over when we lost, because of course he was unaware that you were already halfway to Shu Han, but that’s beside the point. Inej told him to shut up and name his second. They met in the middle of the street, back to back, and began their paces. I began counting them down._

_This is when shit started to hit the proverbial fan._

_Haskell had no intention of abiding by the rules and turned at the count of eight._

_Inej anticipated, but Haskell had already drawn._

_Anika was watching it all and gave the command. Inej leapt left, Haskell’s bullet singing past her face. She springs the quick release on the bone-handled knife you gave her._

_And then the rest of the Dregs start pouring in at Anika’s orders just as Inej’s knife handle is sticking out of Rhett Haskell’s throat. They’re moving in to take out the rest of Haskell’s men._

_Then in that same goddamn minute – The Stadwatch roll in. Rifles, batons, handcuffs, smoke grenades. They’re coming in with wagons and shields, rounding up anyone they can get their hands on, carting them off. It was Haskell’s last trick. He’d tipped them off. If he couldn’t have the Dregs, no one would._

_Where was I in all of this? That’s a good question. Inej had named me her second. For a moment, I thought she’d been shot when I saw her go down to dodge the bullet, and I ran at her. I was aiming at anyone who’d get too close, and then, when she pulled herself up and I saw she was all right, we were back-to-back to fight our way out, pistols and knives at the ready._

_But then, the Stadwatch. Kaz, you’ve got to believe that I was prepared to do whatever it took to get her out of there. If she wasn’t so heavily armed, I’d have even thrown her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but she most definitely would have stabbed me if I’d tried. When the Stadwatch rolled in, she told me to run. It happened so fast, Kaz. She said I was the one who could arrange to have you cared for, arrange for the payments and such. She said I had to go. She fucking hit me in the face, Kaz, like really hard. So, I did what I was told._

_So, that is both the good news and the bad news. And the infinitely worse bad news. The good news is the Haskells no longer maintain hold over the Dregs. The bad news, of course, is that the majority of the Dregs are in the custody of the Stadwatch. And the worst of it is that that number includes Inej. She will stand before a judge next month, who will almost definitely sentence her to Hellgate._

_But don’t panic! We have time. You can write her; I visit her regularly with the solicitor I’ve procured for her case. And it’s just Stadhall right now. If you’re reading this, you’re awake, and you can help me figure out how to break her out. That’s a cake walk for you. Don’t panic. We have been in worse scrapes than this._

_Do try to keep things light when you write her, though, all right? What happened to you hit her pretty hard. It’s been difficult to watch._

_And, for Saint’s sake, thank Wylan for me. Daily. He doesn’t say it, but I know he’s furious._

_Best wishes,_

_J. Fahey_

* * *

_My dearest Inej, most cherished jailbird in all of Ketterdam,_

_First things first, I’m all right. Probably infinitely better than you, actually. I can move all ten fingers and toes and speak in complete sentences, and I’ve never been so patronized in my life for such menial accomplishments. At least I think that’s what these Shu mediks are doing when I do something they want. It sounds very patronizing, anyway._

_I won’t bore you with too many details, which could easily be done, because it’s very boring here. The food is bizarre and horrible. I’m forced to walk laps around the ward at least three times a day, no matter how badly my leg hurts, but I’m proud to report I’ve not strangled a single nurse, even though I’ve really wanted to. Wylan has even said I can tell you that I’m a “model patient” – although I did glare at him rather heavily to get him to agree to do so. You can let Jesper know we're getting on all right. He enjoys my card tricks the most out of any of you, so if I can't be stuck with you, at least it's him._

_All of this is, of course, thanks to you. I’m caught up on the letters, and I can hardly believe it all. I owe you far more than a debt of gratitude. I owe you my life. I owe you an entire city. I owe you everything._

_Which, of course, brings me to your predicament. I’m working on it. I have said I would come for you, and I have always meant it. I will, love, just as soon as I can manage it. I am spending every waking second until then scheming what needs to be schemed to get you out of this._

_In the meantime, have you tried not getting caught? That usually works for me._

_With love and with gratitude and with every bit of strength I have,_

_I’m yours,_

_K. Brekker_

_P.S. – And, for gods’ sake, tell Jesper to stop telling me not to panic. It’s literally the most panic-inducing thing a person can say, and the nurses keep saying it's bad for my constitution._

_P.P.S. - What happened to Artie Galligan in all of this? Or is the answer to that question bad for my constitution as well?_

* * *

_Zenik,_

_I had to call in some favors to get this to you. Don't ask, but you are allowed to be impressed. I need your help._

_-Brekker_


	17. Schemes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of letters found among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

_My dearest Inej,_

_I have a confession to make. When I called myself a “model patient” in my last letter, I may have been stretching the truth. But I’m not sure how mediks can expect you to sit around in bed all day with nothing to do and not be the slightest bit curious about what they’re keeping in their pockets._

_The answer is a lot of pens. I’ve amassed quite a collection. The best part is when another medik comes in, fishing for his missing pen in his pockets, and I offer him one of his colleague’s. They’re always so grateful. And now they all think they’re all stealing each other pens._

_I’ve got to get out of here. Tell me how you’re holding up._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_My devilish Inej,_

_No, no, don’t go for Stadwatch pens. You want to go for pocket watches. If you’re really starving for entertainment, I suggest swapping watches on a pair of shift partners, and then make sure to ask for the time the next time the same two officers make their rounds._

_Now I’m a little jealous. That sounds spectacular, actually._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_My prying Inej,_

_Nothing gets past you, does it. Of course I’m being intentionally evasive. You’re in jail. I’m not going to add to your already bleak circumstances by regaling you with all of the horrible, demoralizing details of hospital life. Or, if I am, you have to tell me how horrible jail is first – which Wylan insists you not do, because he’s worried I’ll try to climb out a window. (A ridiculous concern. I’ve looked into it. We’re six stories up, and he refuses to bring me a rope.)_

_So, this is how it has to be until I can hold you again. Because if I think too much about how you’re being treated in Stadhall or about you going to Hellgate or whether or not I ought to strangle Artie Galligan or poison him slowly so he knows how it feels or how impossible this is when it’s still difficult to walk ten steps to the washroom – I will lose the remaining resolve I have to work out a solution to this problem._

_So, we’re talking about pens and pocket watches. And Ambroos. Who is currently chewing a hole in my sock. I’ve given up trying to get him to stop. He can have it if he wants it. His foot fetish is the least of our concerns._

_And, Inej? Mati en sheva yelu. I am so full of regret that you are in this situation because of me. You cannot even begin to conceive of the weight of the guilt that’s crushing me right now. I will find some way to make this up to you. I haven’t thought of what it is yet. I’m open to suggestions. Do you want a new ship? Your own armada? I’ll look into purchasing an entire galaxy for you, if that would cheer you up. Whatever you want. Name it._

_With all my heart,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_My darling, insane treasure of my heart,_

_I must ask you – no, I will beg you – to ask anything of me but that. How am I supposed to maintain any measure of respect after this if I do as you request and spare Artie’s life? He is responsible for the desolation of the Dregs. You are in jail right now because of him. The fact that he’s still wandering Ketterdam’s streets even now keeps me up at night, Inej. He’s shown himself capable of far worse than any of us imagined. _

_I will do anything you want – anything but that._

_Yours,_

_K. Brekker_

* * *

_My Inej, most troublesome of all Inejs,_

_I’m going to ignore all the sense you’re making and propose this instead. When this is over, I’m taking you on a holiday. You pick the place. Somewhere far away and very dull. We’ve both had far too much excitement lately, and I don’t want to face death again without having seen you lay out on a beach at least once._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_Most treacherous Inej,_

_Really? You’re going to hold this over my head to bargain for Artie’s miserable little life? Why? Why would you do this? I hate it. And stop comparing him to me. I hate that the most. I would never have done something like this against Rollins. Because it’s rash and stupid – look where nearly everyone’s ended up. I would have known better._

_I offered you the world, and you’re squandering it on Artie Galligan. You’re really testing my limits, Inej._

_Sincerely,_

_K. Brekker_

* * *

_Brekker,_

_Your communication skills are still abysmal, I see._

_Say please._

_-Zenik_


	18. Persuasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of letters found among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

_Brekker,_

_I can’t believe you. Honestly, you are the stupidest smart person I know. The next time Inej is in jail, I implore you, that is the thing you are to open with. _

_In the interest of expediting this process, since you’ve already cost me valuable time, I’m enclosing a list of names of Stadwatch who used to be clientele of mine. Use this how you will._

_I am already en route, and I am furious with you. I suggest you take this time to devise how you are going to make this up to me. In case you’ve forgotten, my favorite flavor of cake is all of them._

_\- Zenik_

_P.S. – I’m sorry you were poisoned. That sounds, well, probably well-deserved, but also dreadful._

* * *

_My sweetest jailbird,_

_See what you can do with this list of names. It would be helpful to know their shifts and routes._

_Tell Jesper there is a Stadwatch uniform in my wardrobe that may fit him, as long as he hasn’t eaten too many toffees. He’s going to need it._

_Also, what’s the name of Nina’s favorite bakery? No reason._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_Dearest treasure of my heart,_

_Sweet of you to recall my birthday at a time like this. It hardly seems to be a priority. But since you asked, I want exactly two things. The first is Artie’s head on a pike._

_The second is hardly appropriate to write in these letters, since Jesper is undoubtedly reading them first. But you are welcome to use your imagination. In fact, I encourage it._

_Look at that – neither of these things will cost you a kruge. I believe that’s what the professionals call growth._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

* * *

_Sweet, stubborn, love of my life,_

_How to phrase this exactly…_

_No._

_Ah, yes. That’s the word._

_No. No, you cannot persuade me to spare Artie from the consequences of what he has done. If defending my would-be murderer is more valuable to you than my offer of running away with me to the destination of your choosing, then I am not interested in having this conversation with you. I am simply going to pretend it didn’t happen._

_I invented stubborn, Inej. You cannot out-stubborn me. There is no bargain you could put up that could sway me on this. On this, I am Fjerda. I am ice-cold, and I intend to ruin lives._

_Yours,_

_K. Brekker_

* * *

_My dearest Kaz, my terrible, ice-cold Fjerda,_

_I am baffled by you, since you’ve already acknowledged that there is reason behind my request for mercy. I know that, while your pride is bruised and you find yourself terribly inconvenienced, it is difficult to see that Artie was a tool of your murderer, not the actual offender himself (who, I would like to remind you, I’ve already taken care of). I have to believe that, somewhere deep down, you know that you would have hoped for the same kind of reprieve, if you’d ever found yourself in his shoes – tricked, manipulated, wielded without concern to your wellbeing._

_But, you’re right. Let’s put that aside a moment. You’ve shown you’re not willing to listen to reason._

_I have other ways of appealing to you._

_I dream of you while I am stuck here, you know. There’s not much else to do but think, and so often, it’s only of you. Aching and longing to be near you again. To be in your arms, to be touched by your hands. I remember your sleepy smile the morning after my birthday, breathing in your scent while you kissed my mouth, my cheeks, my throat. And I think there is still so much more you have not kissed._

_More often than I care to admit, I find myself thinking of the moment you covered your eyes, the moment before I slipped out of that gown. How I loved you for it. And I now often wonder how different it might have been if I’d asked you to open your eyes. I think I would have loved to have seen your face then, Kaz, how you would have looked when the fabric slipped from my shoulders. When the gown and the layers and the bindings all finally fell away, and there was just me standing there, all for you._

_You would like that, wouldn’t you? I think that you would. I think you might even like it if I’d crawled the bed to you, let you have a closer look. Maybe you’d even like to touch. Wear your gloves, if it feels too overwhelming. It wouldn’t matter to me. All I want is you._

_But you’re far too stubborn, aren’t you, to consider any alternatives to murdering Artie? That’s really too bad. I was so excited by your proposed holiday._

_I suppose I’ll just have to settle for day-dreaming._

_Unless, maybe, you’re considering thawing._

_-Your Inej_

_(in Jesper’s handwriting)_

_OH MY GODS MY EYES_

_(in Kaz’s handwriting)_

_Serves you right, you sneak._

* * *

_Captain,_

_I must inform you that Brekker has, against the advice of Shu mediks, discharged himself from the hospital. Van Eck and I are overwrought trying to convince him otherwise, but he won’t be persuaded. He insists on returning to Ketterdam. None of us feel right about sending him back against his will, so we are setting sail._

_\- Specht_

* * *

_Brekker,_

_Message received. I will meet you at Fifth Harbor._

_\- Zenik_


	19. The Ketterdam Daily Ledger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of papers found among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to cheat, guys. These are not all letters, per se. But I still think it's fun.

**LANKSROON BAKERY ORDER FORM**

Customer Information

Name: K. Brekker

Delivery Address: Fifth Harbor

Rush Processing: Yes

Payment Method: Cash plus rush deposit, paid in advance

Order Specifications:

Five layer chocolate cake with chocolate ganache, raspberry drizzle, fresh raspberries

Two dozen sugared waffles with apple syrup

Special Instructions:

Just don’t fuck it up.

* * *

_(in a package containing a folded up newspaper)_

_Look! We’re headline news. My father will be so pleased…to never read this, ever. Seriously, I will murder anyone who sends this to him. I’m a little tempted to buy up every copy, but Wylan’s keeping the cheque book under lock and key._

_In any case, here it is, in all its glory. Your wanted sketch is so mysterious and glamorous! They got Wylan’s all wrong, and he’s quite put out about it. See if Brekker wants one framed for The Slat. I have plenty of extras._

_The dust is settling here. Life is slowly resuming a bit of normalcy now that the Dregs have returned to The Slat. Anika’s at the reins for the interim, and there’s been very little activity from Stadhall. No inquiry whatsoever. I can’t shake the feeling Kaz has something to do with that. Ask him for me?_

_\- Jesper_

_P.S. – Ambroos is waiting at the window again. He does it every afternoon around lunch time. Let Kaz know._

**THE KETTERDAM DAILY LEDGER**

**Stadhall In Shambles**

_Explosion at the Stadwatch’s central headquarters releases dozens of alleged criminals back into Ketterdam’s streets; Foul play suspected, officials report_

By A. Van Poel

Stadwatch officers are investigating the cause of a massive explosion that occurred last night in the northern sector of Stadhall in Ketterdam, as well as varying reports of what led up to the event. Citizens of Ketterdam are advised to remain vigilant after dozens of detainees who were awaiting trial are now on the loose following the eruption that tore away wide sections of Stadhall’s northern wall.

According to sources within Stadhall, investigators have set their sights on tracking down accomplices of a privateer known only as The Wraith, who is said to have connections to criminal networks in East Stave.

The Wraith was one of the dozens of detainees who escaped last night, and is described by officers as of a young female of Suli descent, slight of stature and build.

“Don’t let her fool you,” said Stadwatch Chief Inspector Hoedemann, in a statement to The Ketterdam Daily Ledger. “The Wraith is a serious threat and should be considered armed and dangerous. Anyone with information as to her whereabouts should report the tip directly to Stadhall. And absolutely no one should attempt to engage her or her associates without the assistance of law enforcement.”

Rumors swirled last night as multiple sources speculated on sightings of a rogue Grisha Corporalki and possibly a Materialki working in connection with The Wraith, but as of this morning, these rumors had not been confirmed. Speculation on what this could imply regarding Ravka’s involvement in the explosion also remained unconfirmed.

In a statement released by Stadwatch Chief Inspector Hoedemann, the events last night began after a Zemeni man dressed as a Stadwatch guard led in three detainees he was said to have arrested. It was later discovered that the arrest warrants as well as the man’s identification had been forged. Chief Inspector Hoedemann released the following sketches to The Ketterdam Daily Ledger of the man and his cohorts, who are believed to have been assistants of The Wraith.

_(in Kaz’s handwriting in the margin: “ Assistants”?!?! Inej has drawn a devilish little smiley face.)_

In the timeline of events shared by Chief Inspector Hoedemann, the four – three male and one female – are alleged to have walked the length of the Stadwatch detainment cells as this time, as many sources reported multiple sightings around the same time in the evening.

“It is my belief,” said Chief Inspector Hoedemann, “that it was during this period of time that the suspects were discovering the whereabouts of The Wraith’s detainment and possibly other associates of The Wraith that were to be freed in last night’s operation.”

Chief Inspector Hoedemann also reported that the four seemed to have knowledge of the inner workings of Stadwatch personnel and patrolling, as, according to the timeline, they appear to have waited until a particular guard shift change to put their plan into motion. This raised many questions among reporters as to a possible inside connection to Stadwatch officers themselves; however, Chief Inspector Hoedemann emphatically denied these rumors.

“Each one of my officers holds themselves to the highest standard of integrity that the good people of Ketterdam have come to expect of their lawmen,” Chief Inspector Hoedemann said.

Multiple Stadwatch officers who were on duty that night reported that they recognized the female in the group, the suspected Grisha Corporalki, but none would go on record about neither her identity nor how they might have known her.

“I will just say she’s a wiley one,” said one officer, who spoke to reporters with the promise of anonymity, “and leave it at that. She’s like no other Grisha I’ve ever seen.”

The suspected Ravkan Corporalki, described as tall and alluring, is suspected to have distracted the Stadwatch patrolmen while her associates met The Wraith at her detainment cell.

Other eye-witnesses are not as convinced that The Wraith was working in connection with these suspects as Chief Inspector Hoedemann would have the public believe. One Stadwatch officer, who asked only to be known as Officer B., was reported to be down the hall from where the suspects were releasing The Wraith. It is suspected they used a Materialki, as no keys were found missing and no damage had been done to the lock.

“I think they were kidnapping her,” Officer B. speculated. “Maybe revenge or something. From what I could see, it looked like The Wraith was trying to wrestle one of them, the tall one with the funny haircut. At one point, she had him pinned against the far wall, but I guess he won out in the end.”

It is one of multiple opinions about the nature of the relationship between The Wraith and the mysterious four who helped her escape.

“That wasn’t wrestling,” said another eyewitness who wished to remain anonymous. “They were obviously lovers. She was snogging his face the minute they let her out. I think he was an art thief or something. It sounded like she was asking about the art, and he was telling her she could do whatever she wanted with it. He must’ve stolen something for her.”

“Kind of romantic,” he added, “if you’re willing to overlook the illegal nature of it and the complete lack of conscience.”

Chief Inspector Hoedemann would not comment on the nature of the relationship of the two suspects, only that it was clear that all five were familiar with each other on some level.

“We are interested in protecting the public from some very dangerous criminals, not spreading folk lore and entertaining the public,” he told reporters.

Hoedemann has reason to want to wrap the case up quickly and air-tight, as he is running for election to the Merchant Council this year. His handling of the attack on Stadhall is seen by many as a make-or-break moment in his campaign. Many of his would-be constituents are already scratching their heads at how so many of his officers could have been witness to the events and yet were powerless to stop it or apprehend the suspects in the wake of the explosion.

According to reports obtained from Stadhall by The Ketterdam Daily Ledger, at least twelve different Stadwatch guards reported being stopped by the alleged Corporalki or were within range of The Wraith at the time of her escape. Chief Inspector Hoedemann confirmed that there was a significant confrontation that occurred between his officers and the five suspects in the hallways just outside of the detainment cells, but did not report if anyone had been injured during the skirmish.

“By my count, at least a dozen shots were fired off,” Officer B. told reporters. “But the Materialki could stop them all. And the Corporalki…could do something that terrified us all. The lights…the air…it felt like we were being suffocated by dead hands.”

Most eye-witnesses have refused to comment on the nature of the Corporalki’s small science, only that it frightened them, causing several to turn and run.

“We thought at first that we’d had them surrounded - outnumbered two to one,” said Officer B. “But it didn’t matter.”

One thing all reports have agreed on: the smallest of the suspects, a male, was the one to carry in the explosive. And when it seemed as though they were cornered, he used it – but not before the suspected Materialki had loosened all the locks on the detainment cells.

“One moment, it seemed like we could turn the tide,” said an anonymous witness, “and then in the next, a whole wall was blowing out. And there was mayhem all down the hall – all the cell doors were rattling open in the debris. Everyone was running for the hole, into the night.”

The explosion took down all internal communications within Stadhall for hours, and amidst whatever small science the Ravkan Corporalki was using, only a handful of Stadwatch guards managed to follow the escapees into the debris.

None, however, returned.

“We want to assure everyone that this was not a random act,” said Chief Inspector Hoedemann in his statement. “This was an organized, prepared attack for the sole purpose of freeing The Wraith, and, for the majority of Ketterdam, as long as you are not an associate of these people, you are as safe as you have always been within our city limits. The structural damage to our headquarters in no way hinders our ability to carry out our duties to the people of Ketterdam, and I can give every assurance that all is reparable and will be put right long before election day.”

As for any current leads about The Wraith’s whereabouts today, investigators have had nothing to show. But Officer B. put it best.

“She’s a pirate,” he said. “She could be anywhere in the world by now.”

* * *

 _Dear Mr. Brekker,_

_This is to send my gratitude for your very generous campaign donation. I am interested in hearing your terms in regards to becoming a regular contributor to our cause and would be happy to discuss it further either in person or in continued correspondence._

_I thank you for your continued patronage and support of the Merchant Council._

_With gratitude,_

_Chief Inspector Hoedemann_

* * *

_My dearest, loveliest Inej (for you are mine, after all, no matter what Brekker insists),_

_We did not have anywhere near enough time to celebrate and catch up in the aftermath of this whirlwind adventure, so I’m writing this down. In my haste to come to your aid, I left all the letters I’ve been writing you in Fjerda, so one of these days, you’re going to get a massive envelope, but in the meantime, you’ll have this for now._

_Saints, it was so good to see all of your faces again, but especially yours. This was somehow not at all and exactly the proper reunion we all needed, and not just because of the monstrous mountain of cake that I still can’t believe Brekker had delivered to the harbor in the midst of a goddamn getaway. What have you done to him? Or has kruge actually fulfilled his cold, empty heart after all? (I would like to reiterate that it may have been the best cake I've ever eaten, but don't let it go to his head.)_

_I tease, love – there was a time when I would not have wished love on either of you, but you’re here now, and I cannot imagine it any other way. The sea suits you, and he suits you, and you suit him, and if I could somehow alchemize the feeling of seeing you happy into a flavor of waffle, I’d be the richest woman in Ketterdam. Brekker, too. You can even tell him I said so._

_So, while I’m sad to leave you again for a little while, know that I’m cherishing these moments and they will sustain me for months. Change can happen so slowly sometimes, it can feel as if it will never happen at all. But seeing you this time – you and your mad, sloppy prison-kissing and your chocolate-cake-filled face – and how your brilliance feeds and fuels the people around you, the people who love you, I feel I’ve caught a glimpse of the other side. Even people like Brekker can be happy. Even people like me._

_You slurp up every moment of goodness in your getaway. You are not a criminal slinking away into the night. You are a mastermind seizing her bit of the world._

_Until we are together again, love,_

_Nina_

* * *

_Dearest Jesper,_

_Kaz is annoyed that the paper called his haircut funny, and he’s not thrilled at all at the prospect of having that framed. But don’t throw them all out yet. Maybe he’ll change his tune by the time we get back to Ketterdam._

_From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Jesper, I don’t know what I would have done without you, and that goes equally for Wylan. Kaz would be dead, and I probably would be, too. You held us all together like the valiant and steadfast true friend you have always been. Kaz agrees – begrudgingly and in far fewer words, but he agrees._

_Kiss Wylan and Ambroos for us. Well, fine, for me. Kaz just made a face, but I know, deep down, he wants to make sure Ambroos is patted and kissed, too._

_We’ve a long journey ahead of us to Leflin, and I’m not sure yet how long we will be in Novyi Zem. A couple months, I think, if I can have my way, and I think I can. We’ll have a more celebratory reunion when we return than this last one, I promise._

_With all our love,_

_Inej and Kaz_

_(in Kaz’s handwriting)_

_P.S. –Dogs respond to body language and consistency. Try not to ruin him while I’m gone._


	20. Holiday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of letters found among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just out here, following my instincts on this ending. Hopefully you don't hate it. Thank you so much to everyone who has followed along and gave kudos and comments! This has been such a fun little writing experiment, made even better by really sweet, encouraging responses from you all. THANK YOU!! <3 <3

_Dear Inej,_

_Thank you for always being so nice to me even if I didn’t do much to deserve it. Thank you especially for the nice, warm clothes and the good soup. My Aunt Millie makes good soup, too, but it’s not as good as yours. But that’s okay. I think I’m going to like Leflin anyway._

_Thank you for all you’ve done for kids like me. I think there are lots of us who would try harder to do the right thing if there were more people like you._

_I hope Mr. Brekker feels better soon._

_Love,_

_Artie_

* * *

_(Marked at the top: “Jesper: Please read to Wylan”)_

_Dear Wylan,_

_I’ve had some time to think and look back on the events of the last month or so, and I began to feel like something was strangely out of balance. It took awhile to recognize what it was – perhaps someone a little kinder might have realized it sooner. It was this: you have not been given enough credit._

_Don’t let Jesper not read this bit to you. His ego can handle a few minutes on the sidelines. Wylan, I think it might have actually been you who saved my life._

_I’ve heard every angle, and I’ve pieced together the whole scenario. I’ve well-aware that it was a collaborative effort to haul me out of Ketterdam for treatment. But it was you who was stuck with the perhaps insurmountable task of keeping me sane._

_(And Ambroos, too. Let’s be honest: he did most of the work.)_

_So, I thought you should know that I saw it and I won’t forget it. I won’t forget that when I was half-awake and confused and disoriented, it was you who kept reminding me where we were. I won’t forget that when none of my limbs were working quite right, you were the one assuming the unfortunate responsibility of helping me drink. You were the one walking the ward with me. You were the one playing along with endless card tricks. You were the one trying to get me to laugh when the aggravation and the frustration started to swallow me whole._

_You’re a good man, Wylan Van Eck, and an even better friend. One of the best. You have been fearless and determined and self-sacrificing, and for all that and more, from the bottom of my heart, thank you._

_Sincerely,_

_K. Brekker_

_(an addition at the bottom)_

_No. Still too sentimental. DISCARD._

* * *

_(in the folder marked: “Nina”)_

_Dear Nina,_

_I’m writing you today from outside a little café in Shriftport, and I’m realizing I had the opportunity to give you all of my letters and I FORGOT. Honestly, how are we so bad at this? Of course, we were all a little preoccupied, what with the jailbreak and the escape and the chaos of locating Artie while outrunning Stadwatch, and then gorging ourselves on inordinate amounts of award-winning cake. BUT STILL. I hate to think you might be thinking that I’m not writing you. I am writing you everything._

_Now that we are in Shriftport, I’ve paid to have The Wraith dry-docked for maintenance for the next couple of months, and the crew has been given pay and leave to explore Novyi Zem to their hearts’ content. Kaz and I are about to embark on the same; although, we’ve been saying this for about three days now and haven’t made it out of the city limits. There’s just a lot of sleeping and eating to be done first. I think all the excitement finally caught up to us, and, Nina, I am exhausted. And because of that, there’s not been much of a plan formed, but for once, I think that’s okay. And I think Kaz agrees. We know it may be a couple months until all the buzz dies down in Ketterdam and it’s safe to dock again. Not much to do until then._

_Right now, we are taking each day as it comes. He is alive and recovering, and that is all that I need for now. We’ve been staying in a little room at an inn that overlooks the port. Whenever I fall asleep, it’s to the sound of the gentle tides and far off seagulls. And Kaz’s heartbeat. I haven’t quite shaken what it was like to count them in the dark and worry that each one could be the last. I suppose, as with all things, that fear will pass with time. (And, if I’ve I started to get too worried, at least he still grinds his teeth.)_

_So, for now, I’m going to eat my weight in sweet rolls. We’re going to take some long, slow walks through town. I’m going to hold his hand, and I’m going to imagine we have all the time in the world. I’m going to make the most of what we do have._

_As I will with you, darling Nina, when you’re back in Ketterdam again._

_All my love,_

_Inej_

* * *

_My darling Kaz, treasure of my heart,_

_Will you still write me letters sometimes? I’m starting to miss them._

_Love,_

_Inej_

* * *

_My dearest, weirdest Inej,_

_I am literally two feet next to you._

_\- Kaz_

* * *

_My dearest and nearest Kaz,_

_But I miss them. You have a way with words on paper that I hold very dear. At least write to me what you’re thinking right now._

_Love,_

_Inej_

* * *

_My captain, my queen, my Saint,_

_Whatever you require. I am yours to command._

_I am thinking of Ambroos, and how I wish I could write him a letter. I’m also thinking we ought to find a shadier spot on this beach, unless you’d like to see me fry._

_Signed,_

_The very pale fellow on your left_

* * *

_My dearest pale fellow,_

_How about now? Are you still thinking of Ambroos now?_

_Yours,_

_Inej_

_(in Kaz’s handwriting)_

_No._

_(in Inej’s handwriting)_

_Tell me what you are thinking now._

_No. Write it down._

_Write it down so I can read it again when this is over._

* * *

_My dearest Inej,_

_So, you require a bit of prose for posterity. You want to remember this day, this moment, and I can’t fault you for that. It’s a nearly perfect one. For you, I will attempt to make it memorable._

_What am I thinking right now, you’ve asked? Surprisingly, not much. It’s a welcome reprieve, believe me. At present, I am taken by the sea breeze in your hair. I’m mad for how it spreads out around you when you’re in the sand. I’m thinking about wrapping my fingers in it, maybe tugging it while I kiss you, but I’m also thinking there are quite a few people around, and maybe you wouldn’t like that so much. Maybe later._

_I am thinking about what you’ve written here – about wanting something to read when this is over, and I think I haven’t made myself clear. I intend to make this a habit, Inej, as long as you will. Facing down death always does have a way of clarifying things. I know you have the same sense of duty to the sea as I feel toward Ketterdam, but that hardly means this is something we should only do once. Don’t you agree? Isn’t that what you what you wrote to me of, that long night in the warehouse district – a chance to try to rethink the life we’re each leading?_

_I don’t really know what I’m proposing, if I’m being honest. More, I suppose? That sounds about right. That sounds like me. More of you. More of us. Whatever that looks like. More of me at sea? More of you in Ketterdam? Some complicated combination of both? Logistical nightmares don’t scare me; you should know that by now. If there is a deal to strike here, then I’m open for negotiation._

_Though if we’re really shedding the armor, Inej, I’ll put all my cards on the table. This is all I’ve ever wanted. Just you. Just this._

_So, name your terms. My heart is already yours. It has always been yours._

_Kaz_

_(in Inej’s handwriting)_

_Prepare yourself. I’m about to kiss you in front of all these people._

* * *

_(accompanying a small bouquet of dried geraniums)_

_Good morning, Mrs. Brekker,_

_I stepped out to hunt down an acceptable breakfast. Don’t get up. I’ll be back with sweet rolls in 10 minutes._

_And, for gods' sake, don't get dressed._

_Yours,_

_Kaz_

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments! It's my most favorite thing! :) Or come find more of this kind of nonsense on my [tumblr](https://anonniemousefics.tumblr.com).


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